


Scenes From The Other Side Of The World

by msfeuille



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, Cerberus - Freeform, M/M, Pining, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Burn, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-07 21:55:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15228708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msfeuille/pseuds/msfeuille
Summary: Reeling from Shepard's betrayal on Horizon, Kaidan lost his father, and his faith in the Alliance. What was he to do, except pack up his life and take his mother to the Andromeda Galaxy?He wants a quiet life. He wants to get over his heartbreak. The Initiative has other ideas.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoyed a lot about Andromeda, but found I wanted to take some of those loose threads and tie them up with themes from the trilogy. Here is the result. Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

_Day 0_

Six hundred and thirty years and change, and still, the first thought through Kaidan’s head was of Shepard: he was dead now. For certain.

“Welcome to the Andromeda Galaxy,” someone said from beyond the haze of light and shadow that clouded his vision. “Commander Alenko, is it?”

Kaidan ground his teeth together and sat up. His vision swam once, twice, then cleared. “Mister, actually. Mustered out.”

He didn’t think the technician was really listening to him; she was preoccupied with taking his vitals and recording them into the Hyperion’s systems. He breathed the stale air slowly and looked over her shoulder at the cryobay, at murmuring technicians working over Initiative crew, at people sitting on the beds shaking their heads and looking as groggy as Kaidan felt. Across the room a dark-haired youth asked for coffee with a wry, dimpled smile.

Shepard wouldn’t have needed coffee. He would have clawed his way awake through sheer stubborn determination. Kaidan bit at the inside of his cheek and wondered how Shepard had felt waking up from his Cerberus coma: if he’d had coffee, or if he’d woken up like Kaidan imagined.

“You seem to be waking up nicely,” the technician told him, and she opened her mouth to continue but there was a croaking groan that shook the ship, a jolt, and the gravity cut out.

Auto-pilot was easy enough to slip into: catching the tech and guiding her to the bed where she could hold on, shoving off to a data panel at the back of the room while he loaded up his omni-tool. People were yelling – orders, panicked pleas – but they couldn’t rattle his calm.

A grinding mechanical noise echoed through the vents, and the gravity twisted underneath him; he caught himself on the console and settled his feet on the deck as someone shouted urgently: “Watch out!”

He turned and threw up a barrier on instinct, caught the cryopod inches away from a collision with his head, and guided it over his head with a flash of blue. He brought it down gently and stepped quietly aside for the crowd to run over and check it. The medics were struggling to cope with the sprains, bruises and scrapes from the impromptu somersaults, so he grabbed a pair of gloves and got stuck in. He had come to Andromeda to be useful. To do something. This seemed like a good start.

Someone bounded up behind him with skidding footsteps, grabbed his shoulders and spun him round into a bone-crushing hug. The coffee-loving youth.

“Thank you,” he said, and let Kaidan go as quickly as he’d come. “Harry said he wasn’t sure what would’ve happened if you hadn’t caught my sister.”

“Might as well put my biotics to use,” Kaidan said softly. “She’s going to be okay, right?”

A flicker of pain across his open, unlined featured. The kid shrugged. “Harry says she needs to stay under a while longer, but she’ll be fine. She’s too stubborn to die.”

Kaidan kept his own expression schooled into a blank smile, and hid his hands behind his back so no one could see them clenched into fists; when he said he was glad to hear it maybe his voice was blander than he intended, but the kid didn’t seem to notice.

“Ryder,” a woman called from the door: closer to Kaidan’s age, asymmetrical hair and a powerful frown. Presumably the kid’s superior. “Come on, we haven’t got all day.”

The kid stuck his hand out to Kaidan. “Scott Ryder.”

The Pathfinder’s son. Kaidan shook his hand, introduced himself in turn, and froze when Ryder’s eyes widened in recognition.

“Of the Normandy?” he asked, still holding on tight to Kaidan’s hand. “That’s amazing. I didn’t know you’d come with us!”

“I wanted to keep things quiet.” There was no point: Ryder wasn’t really listening.

“Ryder,” the woman said again, hissing through clenched teeth.

“Cora, look who it is!” Ryder shouted back at her, and pulled Kaidan over by the hand. They were holding hands. It was absurd.

The woman, Cora, glanced between the two of them with baffled impatience. “Sorry, Ryder, I don’t have time to meet your playdate.”

“This is Kaidan Alenko of the SR-1. Shepard’s Alenko. With us, on our ship.”

Her expression softened somewhat. “Thank you for your service, sir. Now, Scott, shall we–”

“Kaidan, we’re down a pair of hands.” Ryder lifted up Kaidan’s hand, smiling with bright white teeth. “You’re a pro. Come help us out.”

“He’s not on the Pathfinder team.”

“I don’t want to disrupt anything,” Kaidan said, opting for the firm tone Cora had employed. He managed to free himself from Ryder’s grip. “I can help in here.”

Ryder frowned. “Whatever just happened to the ship is bad. My dad’s pissed and that’s never a good sign. Something big is going on and you’d really rather sit back and let it happen to you?”

Kaidan found himself hesitating. There was a smirk in the twist of Ryder’s mouth, almost hidden by the earnestness in his eyes. Shepard would have needed no encouragement. The thought was almost enough to give him the strength to refuse, but not quite.

“I’ll follow your lead,” he said: both to Ryder, and to Cora. “Just point me in the right direction.”

*

Cora had him suit up in the armory while she and Ryder hit the bridge; a few of the other Pathfinder teammates were there, listening to music with the grim determination of the quietly, utterly terrified.

“Alenko, huh?” one of them, Kirkland, said when he got Kaidan’s introduction. “Why’d Scott pick you as Sara’s alternate?”

“I’ve got some experience,” he replied, and grabbed himself a sidearm.

“None of us have experience out here.” Kirkland’s hands trembled as he wrestled with his helmet.

“Just follow your procedures and you’ll be fine.” Kaidan looked at the crew and realised he had five years minimum on all of them, probably more. He thought about Jenkins and wondered how many of them would die. 

His own hands were steady. He loaded his pistol.

*

In the cargo bay his amps were running hot just from tension so he ate chalky power bars and drank salt-sweet electrolytes until it was time to get on the shuttles; he handed Cora the last half of a bar and at her questioning look, he gestured wordlessly at his own implant-scar, and then hers. Her eyes stayed hard but the shape of her mouth softened as she took the food.

“You’ll follow my son’s lead?” Pathfinder Ryder asked him, baritone firmly turning the question into an order.

“Of course,” Kaidan said, and resisted the urge to salute. 

Ryder gazed at him for a long, quiet moment, and when he stepped aside to speak to his son it felt like Kaidan had been judged and found somehow wanting. He shook off the chill and found a seat in the shuttle next to a dark-skinned youth bouncing with nervous energy.

“It’s time now, right?” he said, hands running ceaselessly his equipment. “Time to see if the big gamble was worth it. Liam Kosta. You caught Sara Ryder’s pod, didn’t you?”

Kaidan shook his hand as if he wasn’t talking a mile a minute. “Kaidan Alenko. It’s good to meet you.”

Kosta burst out laughing. “The Normandy Alenko? That’s unreal. I can’t believe we’ve got a celebrity on board.”

Distantly, Kaidan heard himself say, “It’s always nice to meet a fan.”

Kosta laughed again, and continued speaking, but the rushing in Kaidan’s ears made it easy to ignore him. He focused on Scott Ryder joining them, tense and brittle after the conversation with his father, on the jolt and swoop of the shuttle as it lifted off, on the view from high above the planet.

“What if that stuff’s everywhere?” Kosta asked, pointing at the angry tangle of energy that snaked across the view. “I mean, what do we do?”

“You want what my dad would say, or what I’d say?” Ryder asked, staring not at the approaching planet, but at his hands.

“Can’t I have both?”

“When your back’s against the wall,” Ryder intoned with a roll of his eyes, “use it. Alternatively, scream and form a tidy ball in the corner so your freakout doesn’t trip anyone else out.”

“See, that would never work for me,” Kosta said, laughing, “I’m not that flexible–”

A bright flash of light. The other shuttle shrieked a distress call, engines whining – Ryder gasped, “holy shit–”

Kaidan threw up a barrier around himself as the shuttle broke apart. He tried to grab Ryder, or Kosta, but they slipped out of his grasp and he tumbled into empty, burning sky.

*

Jump-jets were new. He’d sat through a brief training video before going into stasis, but back then he’d been more concerned with the way his mom was holding his hand like a lifeline, silently shaking. He’d certainly never had a chance to try them out in the field.

He wrenched to the side, avoiding a wickedly sharp outcrop, and struggled to get feet first before he hit the ground. Even with his barrier taking the brunt of the impact, it knocked the wind out of him and he rolled onto his side, gasping around a rib that was maybe bruised, probably cracked, and watched the rest of the shuttle fall out of the sky. 

*

His comms were out, and without them he had no way of navigating, or of finding the others. He knew they would head to higher ground, though. Whoever had survived would follow the trails of smoke and wreckage and look for higher ground as they climbed, so Kaidan would do the same.

He picked himself up off the ground, as lightning arced across the broken sky. The weight of his own body felt odd and inconsistent, and in the distance, boulders the size of an M35 Mako floated lazily in mid-air. Whatever was wrong with this planet, it was affecting the gravity, and the odd sensations as his weight shifted made his implant rattle in his skull. This was no golden world.

He made his way up. The jump-jets sent him flying wildly the first time; the second go his path took him through a patch of variable gravity and he almost broke his arm catching himself from a lethally steep drop. But he got the hang of them, making his way up the side of the cliff to get a view of the field below.

A heartbeat passed before his instincts caught up with his eyesight and he threw himself down behind a rocky outcrop. At the bottom of the lightning-scarred valley knelt one of the Pathfinder’s crew, his hands up, surrounded by alien life forms. The objects they were holding looked like rifles.

Kaidan tapped at his omni-tool by touch and memory, keeping his gaze on the Pathfinder’s man, and boosted the wavering signal of his comm.

“–I swear, we don’t want to hurt you guys, I promise–”

On the other side of the valley there was a glimmer of blue and chrome, but whoever they were, they were too far away. The aliens lifted their rifles higher and Kaidan didn’t hesitate: he leapt out with the jump-jets at full force and threw a barrier around his crewmate. The aliens fired at the barrier and it held. They turned, shouting in universal outrage, and saw Kaidan drifting downwards as his jump-jets sputtered out. 

His implant felt hot at the base of his neck. He let himself drop and kept up the barrier around the other man, focused a thin layer of blue force around himself, and lifted his other hand and pushed at the aliens, sending three of them flying backward. The fourth aimed and fired; the force drove Kaidan to his knees. His implant was so hot. Lightning pulsed through the sky and his head throbbed in a sudden, unrelenting migraine that blackened his vision and shorted out his biotics. He fell flat on his back and concentrated every fiber of his will into not throwing up.

The sounds of the firefight slowed then ceased. Someone jolted him, grabbed his arm to access his omni-tool, and Kaidan swallowed down a groan just as his comms burst with static and Ryder’s voice cut in.

“…sure you’re all right, Kirkland?”

“Not a scratch. I mean, I’m terrified and I think I’m gonna puke, but the bastards couldn’t touch me.”

“Alenko. Alenko, where did they hit you? Can you hear me?”

“Damn, Ryder,” Kaidan gasped, and shoved him away with clumsy hands. “I’m okay. They didn’t get me. This planet’s messing my implant up, I get migraines.”

Ryder’s hands closed around his shoulders and tried to pull him upright, and the motion made Kaidan retch and curl over his stomach.

“Okay, okay, I get the idea,” Ryder said, and backed off; his voice quietened with the crackle of a muted comm, and Kaidan took the opportunity to breathe through the rising tide of pain and nausea. Someone knelt by him but didn’t try to move him: they just rested a hand on his shoulder, a steadying touch.

“Hey, Kaidan,” Ryder said much more gently. “Me and Liam have to find Cora and my dad and the others. Kirkland’s going to get you to our crash site, okay? The way’s clear and Fisher’s Canadian. You can bond.”

Kaidan hauled himself upright and rode out the lurching feeling in his gut. “I’m afraid true Canadian bonding requires steak and lager. You have those here, right?”

Ryder chuckled, and steadied him on his feet. “You guys are gonna be okay.”


	2. Chapter 2

_Day 5_

Ryder’s shoulders were tense, his expression brittle and shuttered, when he sat next to Kaidan in the Hyperion’s observation lounge. The Nexus glittered triumphantly, stretching across the viewing window and beyond.

“They’re giving me a ship,” Ryder said slowly. He looked down at his hands as if they belonged to a stranger. “To go … sort everything out. No pressure.”

“You do well under pressure,” Kaidan said gently. 

“Not according to Dear Old Dad.” Ryder wiped his face with the cuff at his wrist. “Plus, I died. Not that great. You’re going to come, right? With me, with us?”

The tension that had been building in Kaidan’s chest bloomed with dread. “Ryder, I’m sorry. I can’t.”

“Bullshit. Is this about that migraine? I had Harry check out your file, you managed them on the Normandy–”

“It’s not about the migraines.”

Ryder shook his head in explosive frustration, but his voice was deeply sad and unsure. “So it’s me? I know I’m not a real Pathfinder, but I can learn, and if you and Cora and Liam are with me…”

“It’s not you. It’s everything.” The kid had just lost his father and his sister was in a coma: he didn’t need Kaidan dumping on him too. But he deserved the truth. At least, some of it.

“I heard some rumors about Shepard,” Ryder said softly, “as we were gearing up to leave. Was he really alive? If he wasn’t dead, why – I mean, you seem to really miss him. Was he alive in the end?”

There were no words to describe the mess he had felt on Horizon: ugly dark anger mixed with relief, with joy and longing, only began to cover it. Kaidan couldn’t even begin to tell this youth who felt everything in stark shades of black and white.

“My dad died unexpectedly. Ma and I wanted a fresh start, so we came out here.”

With his lower lip trapped between his teeth Ryder looked five years younger. His eyes shone. “Then you understand.”

“You’ve got to understand that I can’t.” Kaidan stood up and rested his hand on Ryder’s shoulder, but he shrugged away. Kaidan kept his resolve. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry you’re such a coward,” Ryder snapped and stalked past him, striking his shoulder, and then he was gone.

*

Captain Dunn raised one eyebrow when Kaidan asked for duties and a berth. She pointed at the sealed entrance to the bridge and said wryly, “It’s getting close to an empty title of mine, Commander. I’ve not got much left to Captain. It’s up to the Initiative, and the Pathfinder, where you go.”

Kaidan couldn’t help the grimace that crossed his face. “Ah.”

“Ah,” she echoed, with a decidedly knowing look. “I can’t help you there,” Alenko. It’s your hole you’ve dug.”

Kaidan’s omni-tool buzzed: a notification from one of Addison’s aides, that she required him on the Nexus. “I don’t suppose I could borrow a shovel?”

She gave him a sharp grin. “Still in storage.”

“Just my luck,” he said, and threw her a salute. “Captain.”

*

It wasn’t Ryder waiting for him in Operations: it was Addison herself, standing and glaring with her short hair glowing red in the flickering console lights. She folded her arms when she saw Kaidan.

“Scuttlebutt,” she said with tired disgust, “leads me to believe that you have refused a posting on the Tempest.”

Kaidan resisted the urge to stand at attention. “That’s correct, ma’am.”

“I didn’t realise Specters recruited idiots,” she replied evenly. It took a moment for him to catch up and realise what she’d said, by which point she’d already continued. “Ryder is practically a child, Harper wouldn’t know leadership if it shot her in the inappropriately complicated haircut, and Kosta is a joke. They need someone with them who knows what they’re doing.”

Her stare was so intense Kaidan found he couldn’t keep eye contact. Around the deck, all of Addison’s subordinates were hunched over their consoles, afraid to draw attention to themselves. Only one of them looked up at Kaidan and grimaced sympathetically.

“With respect,” he said, and unsurprisingly Addison spoke over him.

“With no respect, you are throwing away an opportunity to lead a truly fulfilling life. Do you expect me to accept that you’re happy as Nexus dead weight, and one day, an anonymous farmer? She paused, took a slower, calmer breath, and Kaidan was reminded distinctly of a predator about to move in for the kill. “It’s also important to note that as far as our sleepers go, we’ve got to prioritize the most useful, and their families. I’m sure you get my meaning.”

“Very clearly,” Kaidan said, swallowing around the ice cold anger in his throat.

“And your response?”

He could tell her he was disappointed she’d stoop to holding his mother hostage. He could be angry, he could go to Ryder and ask him to overrule Addison, but if he fought her, he would have no allies and no prospects. He had left the Milky Way to escape such a situation.

“Please excuse me,” he said, low and rough, “I need to go to the Docking Bay.”

“Do give Ryder my regards.” She turned away, and with that he was dismissed.

He staggered down the steps and one of Addison’s aides, the one who had dared to make eye contact, caught him by the elbow with a steadying hand.

“You okay?” the aide asked quietly. “Between Ryder, Tann and Kesh she’s on one hell of a warpath. You just took the brunt of it.”

“I had it coming,” Kaidan said wryly. “But thanks.”

“I, uh,” the aide continued, walking Kaidan to the elevator. “I heard what she was saying about your mom? That’s not right.”

Kaidan took a closer look at the man: his cloud-pale eyes, his strong, chiseled features and sandy brown hair that had fallen out of place from nervous rearrangement. His expression was open and appealing. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Jack Becker. I’m not that high up, but I know she doesn’t actually get involved with the sleeper schedules. I can take a look at the list and bump your mom up the list?”

Jack’s hand was warm and soft, without any callouses that would speak of hard labor. It was only that thought that made Kaidan realise they had shaken hands and not let go.

“That’s going to get you in trouble, surely. Why offer?”

“Seems like the right thing to do,” Jack said, and gave a rueful smile, squeezed Kaidan’s fingers before withdrawing. “You look like someone who deserves a little help in your corner.”

“I don’t want us getting special treatment. But ma owned an orchard, she’s a farmer. Horticulturalist. She should be useful once Ryder gets a colony going.”

“I won’t break any rules, don’t worry,” Jack said, and tapped at his omni-tool. Kaidan’s pinged with a notification. “There. So we can keep in touch. If anything happens.”

“Thanks,” Kaidan said, and it didn’t really seem enough, but it was all he could say. On impulse he reached out and squeezed Jack’s shoulder; his answering grin filled Kaidan with immediate longing and regret.

He made his excuses. He left for the docking bay and didn’t look back.

*

_Day 16_

The sky glowed with the radioactive sunset, clouds shimmering as the distant Vault scrubbed the air clean. With the atmosphere clearing, Kaidan could be out just in a jumpsuit, feeling the wind. There was a fresh taste in the air that hadn’t been there before; it danced on Kaidan’s tongue and he breathed deep from his vantage point, perched on the sun-warmed metal of the Tempest’s wing.

It was beautiful on Eos, and peaceful in its own way, though he knew that was only from Ryder’s hard work. There had been no peace for the settlers who had died trying to tame this world.

Dust kicked up on the horizon, a trail growing closer, and he watched as the Nomad skidded over the rise and fell gracelessly to the bottom of Site 1’s valley. Kaidan watched as the Nomad swerved to a halt; Ryder bounced out like a puppy, followed by Kosta and Cora – who both looked pleased, tired and vaguely nauseated.

He and Ashley had both worn that weary expression after a bout of Shepard’s driving. Not that Shepard drove like that from inexperience and sheer boundless enthusiasm like Ryder, but from white-knuckled confidence that the Mako would hold, that his gamble would pay off: from serious and unwavering bravery.

Kaidan scrubbed his face with his hands and watched the night sky unfurl from the far horizon, stretching over his head. The stars came out, rural-bright and still totally unfamiliar. He wondered who would have the responsibility of finding constellations, of naming and taming an unknown sky; each colony Ryder founded would have their own traditions, their own myths to watch over their night skies.

A jump-jet whined and burst several times as Ryder bounced up to join him on the wing. He was still wearing his suit, but his helmet was gone; he’d at least gone inside first.

“I saw you up here,” he said, and sat down nestled close. His skin was puffy, his eyes creased with tiredness.

“You should rest,” Kaidan said.

Ryder sighed and shook his head. “If you want me to leave you alone, at least have the decency to be honest about it. Now. Tell me about Shepard.”

Anxiety bloomed in Kaidan’s chest. “Why?”

“The guy’s got you broken from a galaxy away, whether he was alive or dead or whatever. I want to understand.”

“I’m not broken.”

“Could’ve fooled me, sitting by yourself in the dark.”

Kaidan found himself smiling despite himself. “Would you believe that I’m quite the introvert?”

Ryder snorted. “Yes. But I won’t accept it as the only factor. You’re sad. Grieving.”

“That’s what Dr T’Perro said.”

“She didn’t waste any time, then,” Ryder said, eyebrows climbing his forehead.

“No. I mean, well, I know her from before. We talked about Shepard…about things, back then.”

“Oh,” Ryder said slyly, “so you are capable of talking about him?”

Kaidan had no answer to that. He looked down at his hands.

“Were the rumors true?”

“Which ones?” Kaidan whispered. “That he was alive, or that he was alive and working for Cerberus?”

Ryder shrugged. “There was also a rumor that he was actually a robot, and another rumor that him and Saren were in cahoots, and another one that he’d faked his own death to join the Andromeda Initiative. But the Initiative wasn’t public knowledge back in 2183, so the timeline doesn’t fit.”

Kaidan swallowed around the knot in his throat. “He was alive, and he was with Cerberus. But he’s dead now. It doesn’t matter.”

“If it didn’t matter,” Ryder said, so gently, with compassionate warm pity in his voice, “then you wouldn’t be up here.” He cleared his throat and spoke louder, back to chirpy normal. “Kosta’s sorting out a party down in the mess. You’re a part of the crew, and you’re going to be there, introvert or not. Pathfinder order.”

“Yes, sir,” Kaidan said, and let Ryder pull him to his feet. He tried to leave the memories behind.

*

It was as if floodgates had opened: Ryder had obviously mentioned something to the rest of the crew and they welcomed Kaidan breezily despite him doing his best to ignore them. 

Cora showed him her plants, quiet and almost shy in a way he would never have expected from her. He watched her fumble with a chili plant whose leaves were mottled with crispy yellow-brown, and he stepped forward, shared what he could remember of harvest seasons in the orchards and hot, humid days in the winter greenhouses.

“My ma, she’s the one with the green thumb,” he said softly. “I’ve got her electronic library, her books, if you want…”

She frowned, not at him but at her own calloused hands even as they were hard at work. “I’m no farmer. I shouldn’t waste any more time on these frivolities as it is.”

“We won’t be soldiers forever,” he murmured, quiet like a secret between them. “Might as well get the practice in.”

She smiled, then, and her eyes warmed up as she glanced over his shoulder; she gave him a nudge out into the corridor where he bumped into Suvi huddling near the bulkhead.

“Hey,” Gil called from the balcony of the conference room. “You look like a turtle out of its shell!”

Suvi grinned up at him. “Me or the Commander?”

Gil shrugged, and ambled out of view.

“I thought you might be thirsty,” Suvi said, handing Kaidan a drink. He took it, glanced inside the metal tumbler at the amber and ice, smelled wood and smoke.

“For this, definitely,” Kaidan said. “Thank you.”

Suvi did look nervous, glancing around at the party. It was loud from music Kosta had fed through the internal speakers, and over by the strategy table Vetra and Drack were locked in an arm-wrestling match, Ryder bouncing at the side and loudly insisting he’d battle the winner.

Kaidan led her to the edge of the room, where the acoustics of the corridor softened the noise of the party. “Yeah, thank you. I. Uh, so.”

“So,” she said, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“How come you signed up?” Kaidan asked.

“Well, it’s the frontier of exploratory science, right?” she laughed nervously, “and it’s a bit stupid really, I didn’t have a reason as such, I just…wanted to.”

“That’s great.” Kaidan tried to turn his grimace into a smile. “Really great.”

“How about you?” she asked earnestly, just as he’d realised she would when he first asked the question.

“My ma and I, well, we wanted a fresh start.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a small, embarrassed _oh_ , though she kept her breath bottled in. “I shouldn’t’ve asked. I mean, who knows why people come here, you know?”

“I asked first, don’t worry about it.” Silence fell flat between them for a few painful heartbeats until Kaidan shook his head and said, “Hey. Could you show me some of the good stuff you’ve scanned? I’d like to see your perspective on the star formations in the wider cluster.”

Her face lit up, and she took him to the bridge with his hand clasped in hers, and suddenly it was easy: easy like him and Tali talking omni-tools, or him and Liara sitting shoulder-to-shoulder as they brought up the oddest, most neglected facts about their home systems and shared them with each other.

He missed everyone still, sharp and painful, but he liked this. It felt right.


	3. Chapter 3

_Day 44_

“You look like you’re still cold,” Jack said, laughing and pushing a cup across the table as he sat down.

“Colder than cryo down there, I swear to God,” Kaidan muttered, tilting his face towards the simulated sunlight. The Nexus was warmer than Voeld, and it was calm, and Jack had sat him down at a pop-up café with a mug of coffee cut with bourbon. “You’re thawing me out, though.”

“Good,” Jack said, taking a drink of his own. His mug hid his smile, which Kaidan noticed with a stab of disappointment.

This was the third time they’d ended up taking time. A breather. It was the first time Kaidan had sought him out rather than leaving it to chance. He leant forward, aware he’d let the silence stretch on, and said, “Uh. Addison’s looking a little less angry these days.”

If Jack was bothered by Kaidan’s attempt at small-talk, he didn’t show it. “Well, that’s thanks to you guys. Colonial Affairs is a lot more exciting when we’ve got actual colonies to play with. But did you get my message about the…items?”

Kaidan coughed to cover his own laugh and let Jack glance down at the duffel bag on the floor between them. “Perks of having an inside man?”

“Come on, I’m more than just a perk.” Jack kicked him under the table and winced when the bag clanked. “I’d suggest breaking a couple of them out now, but while we’re out here, where anyone could see? It’s too risky.”

“We’ll have to hide out somewhere a little more private.” Kaidan wasn’t stupid, he knew where he was headed: where they were headed together. Jack’s pale eyes warmed and he leant in closer.

“I, uh,” Jack said, and rubbed at the back of his neck. “My apartment’s not too far from here. We could…”

The warmth in Kaidan’s stomach twisted as a shadow fell over the table; Jack retreated to a platonic distance. 

“Pathfinder,” he said cautiously. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Ryder grabbed a chair from another table and sat down, his forearms resting along its back. “I actually came to talk to you, Becker.”

Since Aya, Ryder had been tense, a little muted from the growing responsibility on his shoulders. Now he was tight with anger. Kaidan muttered an excuse and made to take his leave, but Ryder’s hand shot out, caught his wrist.

“Hang tight, Alenko,” he said in a falsely calm voice. “This won’t take long, and then you can get back to your _date_.”

That’s how it was. Kaidan drank his coffee and half-listened to their conversation about Addison’s second, Spender, and he thought about how he had been acting, to give Ryder the wrong idea.

“I’ll see you back on the Tempest,” Ryder said abruptly, and only then Kaidan realised Ryder had been holding onto the entire time. He let go and his hand left an imprint of heat around Kaidan’s wrist. When he was gone, the atmosphere was awkward and frazzled.

“I’m sorry about that,” Kaidan said softly, and drained his doctored coffee dry.

“It’s okay.” Jack pushed his chair back and moved as if to stand. “We can always rain check for the next time you stop off.”

Kaidan’s chest tightened with the anxiety of _what if_ , missed opportunities again, and he leant forwards and cupped Jack’s neck with his hand and kissed him. The table was still in the way; it scraped across the floor as Jack pushed it aside and slid his hand along Kaidan’s cheek, his hair. His fingertips brushed the port of Kaidan’s amp and sent sparking warmth down his spine.

His world shrank down to sensation, warmth, the taste of bourbon and coffee; Jack murmured into his mouth, “God, you’re so – I can’t _believe_ –” then broke off with a desperate hitch in his throat, dragging his lips over Kaidan’s jaw.

It had been one hell of a dry spell: six-hundred thirty-seven years and counting, from before the SR-1; he rain his fingers through Jack’s hair and whispered, “You said your apartment was close?”

“Yeah.” Jack laughed, his voice low and silk-smooth. “Does this mean we have to stop?”

“Only for a little while.”

They tripped over each other, Kaidan hauling the duffel of bottles of Canadian lager over his shoulder as carefully as he could when Jack was smoothing down his chest and shoulders, firm grip against Kaidan’s muscles. Jack took Kaidan’s hand, cool and dry where Ryder’s had been a hot brand, and led him across the promenade, down to the apartments, through a grey door non-descript and shining bright like all the others; inside it was dark and smelled of clean air and mountains somehow, an apple orchard in sunlight, and Kaidan let the bag fall to the floor. 

“I think you broke one,” Jack whispered against his neck.

Kaidan unzipped his jacket and let Jack slide it off his shoulders. “Do I look like I care?”

“I knew you wanted me for more than my secret stash,” Jack said, laughing, and pulled him to the bed.

*  
   
 _Day 45_

Kaidan’s omni-tool woke him up at a God-awful hour of the morning, orange glow piercing the darkness of Jack’s apartment, shrill beep rattling his eyeballs.

“Ugh,” Jack mumbled into the bare skin at Kaidan’s back. 

It was Ryder; Kaidan could see that from the bed. He slid out of Jack’s grip and read the message, groaned and started to pull on his clothes.

“I’m not gonna get up,” Jack grumbled, burying his head in the pillow. “You tired me out. Big time.”

Kaidan didn’t even have time to shower. He ignored the flush in his cheeks, tried to comb his hair into submission and made it to the door just as Ryder thumped on it and said, “Alenko, come on. This can’t wait.”

Jack lifted his head up and fixed Kaidan with a bleary, concerned stare. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sure everything’s fine,” Kaidan said, ducked down to kiss Jack’s forehead, to smooth the hair back from his forehead, then hurried to the door. He opened it as Ryder was lifting his hand to knock again. “You go back to sleep.”

Ryder’s face was pale, drawn, he glanced back at the dark apartment behind Kaidan, and at Kaidan’s rumpled clothes, and shook his head tightly.

“Come on,” he said, his hands shaking. “You need to come with me.”

The querulous note in his voice was the cold water that got Kaidan moving. He looked over his shoulder at Jack, who nodded and called out, “Let me know you’re okay,” before the door slid shut behind them.

Ryder was practically vibrating with tension as he led Kaidan through the commons and to the transit shuttle. It was still early, the simulated night-time of the Nexus giving way to pristine white light; it was a relief to get to the transit shuttle where the lights were still dimmed.

“How long?” Ryder asked, his voice sharp.

“I don’t see how that’s _your _business,” Kaidan said without hesitation. He swallowed his grimace, and the apology stuck in his throat.__

__“That’s not” – Ryder kicked his heel against the console of the transit shuttle as it whirred into motion. “I just, I didn’t know you two had. Well.”_ _

__All of a sudden Ryder’s anger was gone, and he looked like a sad, hurt kid again._ _

__Kaidan sighed. “Where are we headed?”_ _

__“Nexus cryo,” Ryder murmured._ _

__“Care to tell me why?”_ _

__“Not really,” Ryder said, and grimaced. “I’ll show you.”_ _

__*_ _

__When they reached the cryo chambers, there was an improbable crowd in the triage room: no colonists, no medics, but Addison, Director Tann and Kandros stood huddled together in the midst of a fierce, whispered argument._ _

__“–cannot believe you didn’t know,” Tann snapped, and Addison bristled._ _

__“Fake name and thousands of human popsicles? Let me know when you take the time to look through each and every viewport, Director.”_ _

__“Pathfinder,” Kandros said in obvious relief. “And Alenko. Good. You’re the most familiar in this galaxy so you can confirm–”_ _

__“My technicians already confirmed–”_ _

__“No one,” snapped Tann, “is waking anyone up until I have decided on a course of action!”_ _

__Ryder’s eyes glinted with something like amusement. “Shouldn’t you guys get Kesh over here, if you want to start on a decision?”_ _

__The three burst into a wholly new argument and Ryder grabbed Kaidan’s sleeve, tugged him silently out into the winding catwalks and cryopod storage._ _

__“That should keep them busy,” Ryder whispered. He led Kaidan to the transfer chamber, where pods extracted from the thousands of berths could be held and thawed. One pod sat in its cradle, the others empty; the room was dark and their footsteps echoed in the empty air._ _

__Ryder tugged Kaidan closer to the pod, bouncing on his heels. “I’m a Pathfinder. I can wake up anyone I choose to. It’s like being a Specter.”_ _

__Kaidan froze, two meters from the pod, just too far away to see the viewport and whoever was inside “Ryder. What the hell is going on here?”_ _

__“Look,” Ryder said, his face lit up in fear and excitement like a little kid’s, “Kaidan, come here, look. SAM – wake him up, start the sequence. Kaidan, come on.”_ _

__Kaidan’s feet carried him forward even though his heart was thumping in his chest. He looked in the viewport as Ryder triggered the thawing sequence: mist and condensation, and now Kaidan couldn’t see at all. Ryder grabbed Kaidan’s hand and bounced again, grinning as the pod swung open._ _

__“Look!” Ryder cried with ridiculous showmanship, sweeping the mist away with one hand._ _

__Kaidan forced himself to blink, to lean in. To breathe through the numb shock._ _

__“He was under a fake name, that name’s in the next batch of patrol and security, he was about to get woken up and a technician recognized him – they notified Addison, they called and told me, and I knew you’d want to be here. I mean. You really didn’t know he’d be here?”_ _

__Kaidan reached out and scanned the body with his omni-tool while Ryder chattered on about SAM’s scans; he checked against his records on file: old medical scans he’d had to do in the field. Data he had never convinced himself to destroy._ _

__“Is it really him?” Ryder asked. “Is it Shepard?”_ _

__*_ _

__Kaidan’s first instinct was to panic, to run, but the readout on the cryopod was counting down the minutes until Shepard would wake up. Kaidan couldn’t leave him._ _

__Ryder was still talking; Kaidan tuned him out. Kaidan drew closer and took his time with the sharp pine of Shepard’s jaw, the planes of his cheekbones, the freckles on his nose. His skin was unnaturally pale from the cryonic freeze but it was smooth, unscarred: he bore neither the jagged tear below his ear from Akuze, not the glowing red lines that had bisected his nose and cheek when they’d met on Horizon._ _

__Before leaving the Alliance, Kaidan had sat down with Anderson and gone through the Citadel’s body scans of Shepard to understand exactly what Kaidan had seen on Horizon, the nanotech holding Shepard’s battered body together, the implants in his muscles, the tech grafts in his skin._ _

__Kaidan’s omni-tool picked up none of that in Shepard. This Shepard. He was different._ _

__Shepard groaned low in his throat and his eyes fluttered open; Kaidan held his breath as Shepard focused on him and scrunched his nose in confusion._ _

__“Lieutenant,” he said, his voice broken and rough. “Did you pick me up? I thought my suit’s transponder got hit by that blast. Did Joker get out okay?”_ _

___Joker’s dead_ , Kaidan wanted to say with giddy finality. _They’re all dead_. He swallowed the words and said, “Is that the last thing you remember?”_ _

__Shepard hadn’t tried to move, but he did then, placing a cool, clammy hand on Kaidan’s shoulder and hauling himself upright. His face paled even further._ _

__“Jesus. I feel like – I don’t know. I feel really weird.”_ _

__Ryder bounced forwards. “Commander Shepard, it’s such an honour to meet you, I’m Pathfinder Ryder – Scott Ryder – we didn’t know you’d be joining us – we’d heard the rumours you were alive but–”_ _

__Kaidan shot Ryder a look of the strongest venom he could muster, and Ryder faltered, fell silent._ _

__“Care to fill me in, Lieutenant?”_ _

__If Shepard’s wry, crooked tilt to his mouth wasn’t enough, the rank was. Kaidan had been an expert in Shepard, in everything he could soak up about the man, and this Shepard had been on the SR-1 ordering Kaidan to leave him, and Kaidan wished with everything he had that he hadn’t left. That he had stayed on the Normandy and protected Shepard with his life._ _

__“I’m sorry for making you leave,” Shepard said softly. “I’m glad we’re both okay.”_ _

__Kaidan sucked in a breath and tried not to do something ridiculous like cry; he needed to tell Shepard before anyone else could but when he opened his mouth to speak, he couldn’t make any words come out._ _

__“How _dare_ you,” Tann said, voice loud and shrill, and Shepard tensed, his hand gripping Kaidan’s shoulder with an eye-watering, white-knuckled grip. Tann was loud, and Addison was harsh, and Ryder yelled over them both, but Kandros was the problem as he marched straight up to Shepard._ _

__“What were SAM’s findings?” he snapped, one hand drifting towards his weapon before Kaidan could shove him away. Shepard’s shoulders tightened. “A genetic match? Spirits, the last thing we heard he was working for Cerberus. We shouldn’t have woken him–”_ _

__Shepard had been shaking off his cryosleep tremors but in the space of a heartbeat he burst into movement: slipping away from Kaidan and twisting Kandros’ pistol into his own grip, ejecting its thermal clip with one hand and kicking Kandros in his Turian-jointed knee, a neat headlock while Kandros was off-balance; Shepard pulled him down so his feet were scrabbling on the floor for purchase, snarling, “I’d _never_ work for Cerberus. What the hell are you talking about?”_ _

__There was a beat of silence: Tann and Addison stared dumbly, and Ryder’s face was pale with terror and astonishment._ _

__“Are you insane?” Kandros gasped, trying to break free, but Shepard was far stronger than him, even five minutes after a six-hundred-year nap._ _

__“I would never work for Cerberus. Who the hell do you think you are?”_ _

__Tann was about to call for additional security – Kaidan could see him reaching for his omni-tool – so Kaidan reached out, stepped forwards into Shepard’s field of view. He said softly. “Shepard. I’ll explain everything. Just trust me, please.”_ _

__Shepard tightened his grip on Kandros. His skin had a grey pallor and his dilated eyes skittered over Kaidan’s face with pure panic._ _

__“Breathe,” Ryder said, head cocked as if hearing someone on private comms. “Shepard, you’re hyperventilating and you might pass out.”_ _

__“Who the hell are you?” Shepard snarled, his grip loosening; Kandros managed to pull a knife from his boot._ _

__Kaidan snarled a warning and ripped the knife from Kandros’ hand with a tendril of blue power; he said, “Shepard, trust me,” low and soft._ _

__“Kaidan,” he said hoarsely, and his eyes rolled back in his head. He hit the deck._ _


	4. Chapter 4

_Day 49_

It was dark in Shepard’s apartment, but Kaidan could see by the light of Shepard’s omni-tool glowing orange: he was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, a text entry flickering against his skin.

“I’m not good company right now, Kaidan,” he said, low voice muffled through his fingers. “There’s a reason I didn’t answer the door.”

“Yeah,” Kaidan said: not arguing, but not leaving Shepard alone either. He sat down next to him and felt the cushions moving with the depth and force of Shepard’s trembling. Kaidan cleared his throat. “Want to talk about anything?”

“Hell no,” Shepard said, and threw his head back to rest against the couch. He gave Kaidan a level stare in the almost-darkness, and said, Tann made a decision yet?”

“That’s why I came. Kaidan leant back to mimic Shepard’s position. He decided you don’t pose a threat, and you’d been saved by Jien Garson, the Initiative founder, from death. You can start mingling once he releases the statement tomorrow morning.”

“Mingling. Wonderful,” Shepard said with a snort. “Isn’t that what you and Boy Wonder suggested right at the beginning?”

“Well,” Kaidan said, keeping his face straight and serious, “it’s important the Director feels he has ownership over decisions made around here.”

Shepard didn’t reply. When Kaidan glanced over, he was staring at the ceiling with a look of blank, resigned horror. He’s looked like this most of the time since waking up. Since Kaidan had explained everything.

“I need to see it,” he murmured, “if I’m going to understand why.”

“Everyone’s got different reasons,” Kaidan said slowly, trying to think which Shepard would respect most. Going for the sheer hell of it. Going because there’s nothing left behind you. Going to find a future on your own terms.

“Not everyone. You.” Shepard leant away, still staring into nothing. “You’ve told me all about me and Horizon and how Anderson had been and nothing about you. Why the hell would you leave everything behind to come here?”

Ice settled in Kaidan’s stomach. His throat was dry and cracked. “Shepard.”

“I know that voice. You’re going to spend ten minutes telling me fuck-all, then leave.”

And Kaidan knew that tone: that brisk, irritated tone of command. His crew weren’t falling in like he was expecting them to; the universe wasn’t falling in line. 

“My dad died,” Kaidan said softly. He resisted the urge to curl up his knees like a little kid would, and didn’t look at Shepard. “Heart attack while he was at the lakehouse with his old Alliance buddies. Went too quick for the medivac to save him.”

“Kaidan,” Shepard said, a warning in his voice. Kaidan forced the words past the tight pain in his throat.

“So my ma was trying to keep everything going. Didn’t want me taking a leave of absence. I listened to her, got posted to Horizon. You know the rest,” he said, though that wasn’t true. Not by a long shot.

Shepard paused and said thoughtfully, “Your mom came with you?”

“They need horticulturalists. Farmers.”

The silence stretched on. Kaidan risked a glance over the other side of the couch: Shepard was staring into the middle distance and idly scratching his cuticles to raw shreds.

“Shepard,” Kaidan said softly. “Talk to me.”

“I’m sorry about your dad.”

The guilt and shame in Kaidan’s stomach pulsed, and a bright starburst of light popped in his peripheral vision. Another tension headache threatening a migraine: the third in as many days now. But he couldn’t explain. He couldn’t even begin to explain how actually, his dad dying hadn’t been so bad; it had sucked, yeah, and he still missed his dad, but how could he have been gutted out and left hollow when Shepard had done that to him already?

A warm hand settled on his shoulder. “Hey there, Lieutenant. Easy.”

“Commander, actually,” Kaidan admitted. “A couple of months before I mustered out.”

“Shame you didn’t go further,” Shepard murmured. “Would’ve loved to have to call you sir.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes even though they felt like dry, hot marbles rattling around his skull. “Are you flirting with me, Commander? No, don’t tell me. Let me live in the illusion.”

Shepard was quiet; Kaidan bit his tongue and stood up, the room swimming around him.

“You don’t have to go,” Shepard finally said, like he was trying to do Kaidan a favor.

“No. I need to go – my head.” Kaidan went to the door; Shepard didn’t stop him.

*

He had nowhere else to go, so he lay on his bunk on the Tempest and blocked out the light with his arm. Despite the fireworks in his amp he felt it when someone came and stood next to the bed.

“I turned out the lights,” Ryder said, his voice stiff. “So you can look at me.”

Kaidan didn’t move, didn’t speak. Maybe Ryder would think he’d fallen asleep.

“You tell Shepard about Becker yet?”

“Go away,” Kaidan mumbled, because the full-body flinch had more than given him away.

“Told Becker about Shepard?”

“Tann’s statement’ll do that tomorrow.” Kaidan lifted his arm an inch, peered up at Ryder in the gloom; he looked older, inscrutable.

“That’s a no, then. What’re you going to do?”

“Sleep off this migraine and report for duty.”

There was another pause. Ryder gave him an oddly pitying look. “Kaidan, you can stay on the Nexus with him, if you want. Just say the word.”

He wasn’t very good at staying, not anymore; words died in his throat as he thought about Shepard not wanting him over, Shepard accusing him of abandoning his duty, Shepard letting him leave without a struggle.

“I’ve got a job to do, here,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m not abandoning it.”

“I’ll make sure we come back sooner rather than later,” Ryder offered, and patted Kaidan on the shoulder before he left.

*

_Day 61_

“Get _down_ , holy fuck – someone get Alenko a goddamn medigel!”

Ryder’s voice sounded watery and far away. Kaidan blinked and made his eyes focus on flickering blue fire. What had he been doing? He’d been reading something on his omni-tool. He’d stopped in his tracks because he’d received a message, auto-forwarded from the Tempest’s comm array.

The dust and dirt ahead of him burst with a spray of gunfire; he realized slowly that he was lying down. He didn’t remember lying down, though. Lying down in a firefight – 

“Easy, K,” Liam said, hand at the side of Kaidan’s neck. “Can you feel your legs and shit? This’ll go easier if I can move you.”

That strange, clawing feeling in Kaidan’s chest was fear. His neck, where Liam had his hand clamped tight, was hot and cold at the same time, slippery and pulsing in an erratic rhythm.

“Shot me,” he slurred out, and tried to sit up. He tried to kick Liam away. “Someone shot me.”

“Steady, old man,” Liam said, and swore under his breath. “Sitting up while the sniper’s still about is a monumentally bad idea.”

“Get off.”

“You’re an ornery bastard when you’re in shock, I’ll give you that much.” Liam started pawing around Kaidan’s pockets, drew out a pack of medi-gel from his belt. Another shot fired, from somewhere; Liam hissed in pain and a searing heat swamped Kaidan’s right shoulder.

“They shot me _again_ ,” Kaidan spat: awake enough to actually feel offended by the whole thing.

“Oh, for – Ryder, take her down already!”

Silence. Ryder over comms, panting. “Got it. Got her. Liam – it hit his head, or his neck – is he–”

“And in the fucking shoulder,” Kaidan said, slurring more as the medi-gel finally adhered to his neck and blasted him with painkillers. “I can get back to the–”

“Stop moving.” Liam pressed a hand to Kaidan’s shoulder, no medi-gel this time, just pain: a lance of white-hot and black that knocked everything else out.

*

People were arguing. Kaidan flexed his toes, his fingers, his shoulders, taking stock of what hurt and what didn’t. He smelled antiseptic and oil, heard Lexi and Ryder.

He was fine.

“At least wait until he’s conscious,” Lexi was saying.

“Oh, I plan to. I’m not wasting my breath if he’s not fucking listening.”

“Scott,” she said gently, chiding and soft.

“Doctor T’Perro. Please excuse us. He’s awake.” And Ryder had somehow learned the impatient cold command that Shepard wielded so well. There were footsteps, the swish-and-click of the door. Ryder said, “I know. Kaidan. Open your eyes and have a conversation with me like a fucking adult.”

Kaidan tried to sit up, but Ryder pushed him back down. “Pathfinder, you’ve got me at a disadvantage here.” 

Ryder gave him a prim little look of censure. “You were shot in the neck and shoulder. It missed your spine my millimeters, and your shoulderblade is broken. Also, you’re super high. You’re staying lying down so you don’t fall off the goddamn bed.”

“You going to tell me off now?” Kaidan asked. His voice slurred, even though he was trying so hard to enunciate. The bed felt like it was rocking.

“You were reading your private messages thirty feet away from a hot zone. Of course I’m going to fucking _ream_ you. What were you thinking?”

Ryder’s voice was so loud. Kaidan patted at his own wrist and couldn’t find his omni-tool. He hadn’t finished reading the message when he went down, and he needed to know how it went.

“I wanted to check what was so important to you that you’d put our lives at risk,” Ryder said, glancing down at Kaidan’s groping fingers. “So. Shepard ain’t happy, huh?”

“I need to read it.” Kaidan hauled himself upright, shoving Ryder’s hands away; he breathed through the excruciating pain up and down his back. “Give me my omni-tool.”

“After we talk.” Ryder grabbed Lexi’s chair and sat down, his shoulders deceptively loose and relaxed. “You never struck me as a cheater or a liar, Kaidan. So why are you carrying on with both Becker and Shepard?”

Kaidan swallowed despite the numbness in his throat. “I’m not.”

Ryder rolled his eyes and picked up Kaidan’s omni-tool from the Lexi’s desk – that’s where it was – and read, “‘I still think about that night. I get you’re busy, I get your life is different with Shepard around. I just miss you.’ Kaidan, what the hell are you doing?”

“I know I need to make it clear we can’t,” Kaidan said, and scrubbed his face with both hands. His whole face was numb and he didn’t know if that was pain, a migraine, the painkillers, or just the result of an epically shitty day. “I just don’t know what to say to him.”

“Why not? It’s obvious.” Ryder waved his hands expansively through the air. “I thought my boyfriend was dead, now he’s not, so you and I need to press pause while we work things out.”

“We’re not…” Kaidan tried to talk, he really did, but he couldn’t form the words. God. He was pathetic.

“Not working things out? I gathered that from Shepard’s message.”

“He doesn’t know, for God’s sake,” Kaidan snapped, and rolled to his feet in furious adrenaline, snatching his omni-tool from Ryder’s hands. “He’s not my boyfriend because he doesn’t know and he never knew and then he _died_ , okay?”

Ryder stared open-mouthed, eyes shining with pity. “I don’t understand.”

“Yes you do.” Kaidan blinked. Maybe there were hot tears cooling on his face but he couldn’t feel them. “I’m the sad sack of shit who held a torch for his XO so hard it ruins everything else from another galaxy. Why else would all of this be so hard? It’s just him, it’s _all_ him.”

“No,” Ryder said softly, blushing a deep, brilliant red. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t – why he wouldn’t want you.”

Kaidan couldn’t help it: he laughed until he blacked out.

*

The room was dark and quiet; Kaidan’s omni-tool glowed on his wrist with a note from Ryder: _I’m sorry. Rest up. ETA to the Nexus is 3 days._

Kaidan pushed the blanket off himself and sat up, breaking into a prickling cold sweat, pain burning down through his fingers. He read Shepard’s message from start to finish.

_Kaidan I feel like we had a fight but I don’t know what about. I get that you came here for a reason. You wouldn’t come here lightly. If there’s another me back there though, the other me – you left him. It feels like you left me even though we’re in the same place to fight about it._

_Fuck, I’m not doing good. Addison’s at me about colonies. Finding a place. I don’t want to. It makes me think of my parents, my brothers all believed in the colonial dream and they all died, I don’t want to be a settler. I don’t want to be here at all I don’t know what to do_

There was an attempted recall message too, that SAM had apparently ignored, and another from Shepard that had come through sometime while Kaidan was unconscious:

_Sorry. Drunk. Ignore me, I’m fine._

Kaidan wrote back: _I’ll be there in three days._


	5. Chapter 5

_Day 64_

When Shepard opened the door he was in low-slung, slouching pajamas that hung off his hips and nothing else. Kaidan froze, dry-mouthed and staring. A living, purpling bruise stretched up the left side of his ribs and he was pale, raccoon eyes spelling out sleep deprivation, but none of that made a difference; he was goddamn beautiful, he was perfect, and Kaidan got tuck staring at his chest, his collarbone, his jaw – 

“Sorry,” Shepard said, blearily rubbing his hand over his face. “You woke me up. Come in. I’ll get dressed.”

Half of Kaidan wanted to point out it was three in the fucking afternoon, what was Shepard doing asleep, and the other half wanted to tell him not to bother getting dressed, it was okay, so instead he split the difference and said nothing; he followed Shepard inside, resting his hands on the doorframe, the back of the couch, while his neck pulsed in discomfort. Shepard went into his bedroom and pulled the door almost-shut and Kaidan sat down, clutching at his own knees to stop his imagination from filling in the gaps.

“I’m okay,” Shepard called out. Rustling of clothes. “I was just – well – I’m fine. You didn’t need to come back. I don’t need supervision.”

“We were coming back anyway.” That wasn’t right, made it sound like Kaidan wouldn’t have commandeered the Tempest otherwise. He cleared his throat. That hurt. “It’s not an issue. I’m here.”

“I have a confession,” Shepard called out again, voice lightened with humor. “I drank all your lager.”

“You said it tasted like piss.”

“No I didn’t,” Shepard said, emerging, wearing jeans and a soft blue hoodie that brought out his eyes, and a smirk that brought out his goddamn dimples. “I said it tasted like watered-down piss. But I got a taste for it in the end.”

Kaidan found a grin for him. “Glad you enjoyed it, then. It still found a good home.”

“I’ve got two left. Saved them when you said you were coming. I’ll take your jacket, come on.” The last, he said while grasping at Kaidan’s sleeve, tugging it towards him, and Kaidan couldn’t help the hiss of pain when his shoulder shifted.

“I’m fine,” Kaidan said at Shepard’s sudden stillness, maybe to forestall the interrogation, but it was too late: Shepard’s demeanor had already shifted to quiet and intense, kneeling in front of Kaidan and exploring with probing fingers. He pulled away Kaidan’s collar and found the still-healing wound on his neck, dark purple and red and medi-gel patch still holding everything together.

“Jesus Fucking Christ,” Shepard said, face ashen and bloodless. “Oh my God, Kaidan –”

“I’m okay,” Kaidan said, tried to catch Shepard’s hands with his own, but Shepard slapped his hands down in one sharp stinging movement and unbuttoned Kaidan’s shirt, pushed it down, exposed the angry wound at his shoulder: entry at the front, exit at the back. Shepard’s hands were steady at first but as he traced the wounds, the bruises, old and new scars, the constellation of Kaidan’s new history written on his skin, his fingers started to shake.

His hands were warm even though his face was desperately sallow with his naked fear and horror, and Kaidan couldn’t speak, couldn’t move at all.

“You almost died,” Shepard said, voice hoarse.

A flash of anger and snarling grief reached out and moved Kaidan’s mouth for him: “You did die.”

“Kaidan.” Shepard clasped his cheeks, fingertips brushing the points of his jaw. His eyes were shiny and bright; his mouth trembled in an unhappy slope. “You are the only good thing about this place. If I lost you there’d be no fucking point to any of this.”

Kaidan couldn’t do what he wanted: couldn’t slump down and cry with how unfair this thing was to Shepard, who hadn’t asked for any of this. He swallowed past the fluttering tension in his throat. “I don’t want. I…I want you to be able to find a place here.”

“Not without you.” Shepard’s gaze flicked down from Kaidan’s eyes, and watched him lick his lips out of nerves. Shepard was watching his mouth and Kaidan didn’t understand why.

“I’ll get Ryder to bring you with us.” Kaidan knew that if he stopped talking, if he stopped thinking, he’d lean forward and their lips would touch and everything would be over. “You’re happiest on a ship like that. It’ll be like old times.”

“Neither of us are Alliance anymore.” Shepard leant in closer. He could feel Shepard’s breath now. “It’s not a military operation.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Kaidan,” Shepard said, his voice smoke-rough. The sound sent a crawling shiver up Kaidan’s spine, tore up his thoughts and threw them out an airlock, and he closed his eyes, leant forwards.

There was a beat. Shepard pulled his hands away; Kaidan’s cheeks ached with cold at their absence. He opened his eyes.

“Sorry,” Shepard said. “I should go.”

Kaidan tried to speak, but he didn’t know what to say: to disagree, to point out it was Shepard’s place and he couldn’t _go_. But Shepard was already locked in his bedroom, hidden behind the door.

*

“No,” Ryder said, his voice strident even as it popped with static over the omni-tool channel. “I need you.”

Kaidan glanced back at the door to Shepard’s apartment; Kaidan had left it ajar so he could get back in. “Something’s – he’s not happy. I can’t leave him like this.”

“Well, leaving him isn’t an option anyway,” Ryder said mildly. “You were so useless you got yourself shot in the fucking neck, we’re not leaving him behind. Let’s bring him with us.”

Kaidan couldn’t help the way his eyebrows climbed up his forehead. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“It’s _Commander Shepard_ ,” Ryder said, rolling his eyes. “Even half-crazy with cryo sickness he’d be better than half this galaxy, and he’s not that bad. He’s just scared.”

“Shepard doesn’t do ‘scared’.” Kaidan spoke automatically, but as he glanced back in the apartment he thought that might not be the case anymore. “He’s adjusting.”

“He can adjust better on a state-of-the-art stealth warship than on a space station.” Ryder raised one eyebrow back at him, a perfect picture of arch superiority. “Or am I incorrect when I’m assuming you’d want him nearby?”

“You’re not wrong,” Kaidan said softly.

“Well then.” Ryder tapped at the screen, his fingers blurring in the viewfinder. “It’s official, now. Three days R&R and then we’re getting this Moshae together. No more getting shot.”

“Thanks, Pathfinder,” Kaidan said, and closed the channel. When he went back in the apartment Shepard was standing in the dim light from the corridor, head cocked, arms wrapped around his middle in uncharacteristic uncertainty.

“He’s really young,” Shepard said. “Like, a kid.”

“Yep.”

“And I need to take orders from him.”

“Yep.” Kaidan felt the tone of the conversation shift, and gave him a grin. “You get used to it.”

Shepard snorted, and shook his head. “I’ve got painkillers, moonshine and ration bars.”

Kaidan closed the apartment door, and brightened the lights enough that neither of them would be tripping over each other. “The makings of a party, then?” 

“Ugh, people.” Shepard collapsed on the couch. “Tell me about Aya. I won’t play catch-up with kids. But I’ll take notes.”

There was a line of determination in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. Kaidan swallowed his own private smile, and sat down next to him, and started talking.

*

_Day 87_

Three weeks in and Shepard had his first trip planetside without Kaidan there too: Kaidan sat on board the Tempest, even though he could’ve gone into Kadara Port for R&R or shopping or whatever else the others did when Ryder left them behind while he jaunted around Kadara with his ground crew.

“Miss your mate,” a deep voice rumbled from the galley, “but don’t wear out the walkway. And quit pacing. Making me dizzy.”

Shepard would know just what to say to Drack – a jibe at his aged inner ear, or the Krogan equivalent of an inner ear – but then again, Shepard had been headbutting and drinking and laughing with Drack within the first forty-eight hours. They were on a similar wavelength.

“He’s not my mate,” Kaidan said, hoping Drack wouldn’t notice the blush.

“Not for lack of you trying.” Drack rolled his eyes. “You do realize you’ve got, what, three decades left? Gotta make them count.”

“More like five or six.” Kaidan grimaced. “I hope.”

“Oh, Pretty Princess has such longevity,” Drack said, and laughed. “Lots of time to waste, then.”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” Kaidan shot back, his shoulders tightening with growing irritation.

“Hm,” Drack said, and threw back a shot of…something. Either ryncol or engine lubricant, Kaidan wasn’t sure which. “Needs more salt.”

*  
“I mean,” Gil said out of nowhere as Kaidan stopped by the engine room to get some tools, “you could just ask him. No use pining away, right?”

Kaidan turned on him. “Did he say something to you? Actually say anything? Or are you and Drack sticking your noses in other people’s business?”

Gil cocked his head. “Do Krogan even have noses?”

The engine room was a mess. Gil must have been too busy playing cards with Shepard to do his own inventory. Kaidan couldn’t find _anything_.

“I mean,” Gil continued, “Shep normally just tells me to shut the fuck up when I get on his nerves.”

“You’re both class acts.” Kaidan finally found the tools he needed, and straightened his back. His head hurt.

“Yeah,” Gil continued, with a wide grin. “He’s my favorite.”

Kaidan stopped, then, and looked at him. Stared. Gil stared back, one eyebrow raised, smirk twitching his Godawful beard.

“Anything you want to say to me, Commander?”

“Shave,” Kaidan snarled, and fled before Gil could laugh him out of engineering.

*

It was late by the time Ryder came back, Shepard and Peebee in tow; Kaidan had already retreated to the crew quarters. Kosta snored like a freight train, and Jaal’s breathing sounded far too wet and alien to set him at any kind of ease, so he was awake with Shepard snuck in.

“Hey,” Shepard said, voice warm, shoulders loose. Happier than he’d been for weeks. “So the others say you’ve been in a bad mood today.”

“Only because they kept on talking to me.”

Shepard laughed quietly, and sat on the edge of Kaidan’s bed. “Aw, Kaidan. You missed me?” 

“Every time,” Kaidan said, and sudden tears pricked at his eyes because of the deep and cavernous truth behind those words. 

If Shepard noticed the glimmer in the dim light, he didn’t say. He pressed Kaidan’s shoulder with his hand – his palm was a hot brand through the fabric of Kaidan’s undershirt – and moved away.

*

It was the middle of the night, with even Shepard conked out in the crew quarters, so when Kaidan ventured to the galley he assumed he’d be alone.

“Hey,” Ryder said, voice sleep-rough, eyes shadowed with brutal tiredness. “I let a woman get killed tonight.”

Kaidan paused, put the snack bar back, and retrieved the Kadaran moonshine Kosta had thought so well hidden: a nook behind the granola that apparently no one but Kaidan ate.

Cups on the table, a generous finger for both of them. He sat down opposite Ryder. “You’ve killed women before.”

Ryder made a face of distaste, scrunched nose and grimacing mouth. “Not a _woman_ thing. I mean, I let her die. I saw Reyes’ sniper prepare the shot, and just…stood there. Bang.”

“This is about Sloan,” Kaidan said softly.

Ryder sighed, drank his drink, and gagged. “This is awful.”

“It’s Kosta’s,” Kaidan said, and watched the little reframing dance Ryder did to approve of it instead.

“I know that Sloan would’ve made things worse,” he said softly. “I made the right choice, even if it was a dickbag move.”

“Shepard,” Kaidan started, and felt his own awkward hesitation. He pushed through. “Shepard had to make calls. Not always ones he’d be proud of, and not always ones that people on the outside would understand, but he did what was best. What he had to. You do that too.”

Ryder said something, maybe a question about Saren, or Horizon, but Kaidan couldn’t hear him through the rush of panic and guilt in his chest. He should havelistened. He should have believed that Shepard had a reason to work with Cerberus. That his reason was good enough.

Kaidan shouldn’t have turned away, except if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t be here, and this Shepard would be all alone.

He blinked his eyes dry, swallowed down the knot in his throat, and met Ryder’s coolly disappointed gaze.

“About Shepard,” he said, and Kaidan felt his own body tense, his mouth open, before he could tell himself not to speak.

“I wish all of you would butt the hell out of my love life,” he snapped, “because we are not here for your entertainment.”

Ryder leant back from the table and downed Kaidan’s untouched shot. “I was actually going to say he’s faking being all right and he’s a huge mess of a ticking time bomb that he’s obviously trying to hide from you, but okay. We can talk about your crush instead, if you like.”

Kaidan froze, managed to shake his head. “What is it?”

“I had SAM analyze his cardiovascular and adrenal biodata from his suit, and his sleep patterns. He’s under a huge stress response _all the time_ , even when he looks okay. And in fights – he’s an infil specialist, I get that, quick-and-quiet is his jam, but when he was taking out that Angaran – you should have seen his face. He enjoyed the violence. The blood.”

“No, the–”

“Precious perfect Shepard you know would never be like that, I get it.” Ryder’s voice softened. “I know we haven’t talked about it, beyond handwaving your report of Horizon so Tann would accept this was Shepard. But what if this guy isn’t the real Shepard?”

“No,” Kaidan said, quieter this time. “It’s – he’s Shepard.”

“This isn’t the man you saw on Horizon.” Ryder’s voice was so soft and gentle now: he’d practiced this with Lexi. “No implants, no memories of Horizon, and the timeline doesn’t fit – he was frozen in the first wave, months before Horizon. One of them has to be a fake.”

The flood of physical revulsion hit Kaidan so hard he retched, sending a bright spar of pain up his implant and into his skull. _He would know._ He had to believe that.

“I’d know.” It didn’t sound confident out loud. He sounded pathetic. “Look. We don’t know what Cerberus is capable of, whatever knowledge they have. They could have brought him back from the dead and…”

“Cloned him?”

“Reconstructed him twice.”

“Maybe they’re both fakes,” Ryder said thoughtfully.

“Maybe,” a deeper voice cut in from the doorway, “maybe he could be involved in his own existential crisis, even if he is a fake.”

Ryder flushed a deep mortified red and made room for Shepard to join them at the table. Kaidan stayed silent. If he asked how much Shepard had heard, he would open up questions about hearing about Kaidan’s >i?crush and it would paint, crystal clear, that there were things to overhear.

“How much of that did you overhear?” Ryder asked, gaping like a fish. Kaidan winced.

“Two comments. Number one, let’s all go get philosophy degrees and debate what makes someone really them. Ryder, you are not the same person you were when you got here. Right?”

That’s not the same.” Ryder shrank back, like he was ashamed to even open his mouth.

“Why?”

“My body’s the same.” But even as he spoke, he looked doubtful. 

Shepard shrugged. “Not the same one six, seven years ago. Renewal of the cells and all that.”

“What was your second comment?”

“Say you found proof I’m a clone. Hundred percent not the same dude who saved the Citadel. Gonna make me change my name? Make an announcement? Make sure no one acts like I’m Shepard?”

“God, no,” Ryder said.

“So what difference does it make? I’m John Fucking Shepard, hero of the Skyllian Blitz. I died and I woke up in another galaxy. I’m here. You need to learn to deal with that.”

He touched his warm palm to Kaidan’s shoulder as he left and that was when Kaidan noticed it. The tremor. Ryder scuttled off to his quarters, Shepard’s mental state forgotten and Kaidan couldn’t help but think to himself: that was the whole goddamn point of his speech.


	6. Chapter 6

_Day 105_

“No – Ryder can’t leave them to die!”

“He’s our Pathfinder and he made the call!”

Kaidan had been in the cockpit, a silent, calming presence while Suvi and Kallo vibrated with tension; waiting on the Tempest while Ryder was on the Archon’s flagship was excruciating. But as voices reverberated in the research room, Kaidan sighed and made his way back.

It was Drack, of course, bristling with fear and outrage because Ryder was going to save another Pathfinder instead of Drack’s people.

“They’ll be turned into monsters,” Drack spat in Cora’s face.

“The salarians would have died,” Cora said, her voice admirably level considering who she was staring down. Drack wasn’t going to back off, though: Kaidan could see it in the way he shifted the weight on his feet, the way he reared back like he was going to strike –

“Hey!” Shepard yelled from behind Kaidan, from the airlock. “Drack, we got eight minutes before the Keyy get power back. Let’s go get them!”

“Absolutely not,” Cora said; Drack shoved her out of the way and would have done the same to Kaidan except he was skidding on his heels to follow Shepard too.

“This ain’t the military,” Shepard said to Cora, eyes bright, while Drack grabbed a shotgun. “You can’t order me around.”

“You don’t have time,” she hissed. “Kaidan, knock some sense into him.”

Shepard was already armored up – they all were, just in case, even though Ryder had only taken Kosta and Jaal. Ignoring Cora entirely, he threw Kaidan his helmet, the bright Alliance-like blue catching the light, and pulled his own out of the lockers.

He looked at Kaidan then, held out Kaidan’s pistol grip-first, and his eyes were bright and lined with crows’ feet; he wore the N7 armor Ryder had commissioned for him, black with his red and white stripe, and as usual he took Kaidan’s breath away.

“Seven and a half minutes, Alenko. You coming?”

Kaidan grabbed his pistol. “Hell, Shepard, I know I can’t stop you – I might as well help.”

Cora ran one hand through her hair, over the fuzz at her temple. “Use SAM to get you there fast, and _don’t_ make Ryder need to leave you behind.”

“Understood,” Shepard said, grinning, and dragged Kaidan alongside him as Drack cracked the airlock and ran into the ship.

*

Fighting alongside Shepard was always exhilarating, but with Drack, Kaidan found himself falling into the tactical patterns they’d had on Ilos, on the Citadel: their third would charge in, Shepard would cloak and flank, and Kaidan fired off biotic and tech disruptions from the back. 

With Ryder as their third it wasn’t the same; he was more cautious in a firefight, assessing weak points and moving tactically through the battlefield, which meant Shepard had been throwing himself headlong into their fights. Without the worry for Shepard’s bullheaded stunts souring the ambience it was actually almost fun. Shepard laughed as he pulled off a sniper shot from stealth: a free, bright sound of the same relief Kaidan felt.

“They’re here,” Drack said, and when the access panel was too slow he just headbutted the door until it caved in.

“Boss,” the krogan said from inside the cell, totally unfazed.

“Right,” Shepard said, and tapped his onmi-tool. “Ryder we’ve got Drack’s scouts–”

Ryder’s outraged squeal made Kaidan’s ears hurt.

“-and we’ve got three minutes, I know. Race you?”

“This is not a joke,” Ryder shouted down the line. “Get topside, _now_!”

“Can you walk?” Kaidan asked the krogan quietly; they glared at him with sullen eyes and grunted belligerently before moving as a team in a loping run.

“Good men,” Drack grunted back, slapped one on the hump and kept them moving quickly.

They made their way up the decks of the Archon’s ship, pockets of Kett providing only minimal resistance until they reached the airlock. As they clambered out onto the external hull, maglocks on their boots keeping them from tumbling into vacuum, a wave of Kett spilled over the rise from another airlock.

“Cover the scouts!” Drack shouted. He didn’t run in: the Tempest was coming round to pick them up aft and they couldn’t create distance between them and the ship. They’d never close it again.

Kaidan focused, aimed a flare of biotics to pick up one Kett and throw it against its squadmates. Some of them hit the deck, mag-locks active, but a couple went spinning into the ink-black vacuum. Lost, then.

“Coming in,” Kallo said over the comms, voice tight. “Ryder, you’re approaching starboard, the other team are in position.”

The vacuum meant Kaidan couldn’t hear the Tempest’s engines, but he could feel the rumble through his boots – unless that was the flagship starting to power up. They were almost out of time.

“Raeka, go,” Ryder said. “Scouts, go. We all cover and then we get the hell in and go.”

Kaidan’s biotics had attracted attention but he could handle that with his barrier: his skin prickled with the absorbed force of their fire as he loosed an electrical overload program through his omni-tool: not at their weapons or shield, but adaptively targeting the power in their mag-boots.

Four, five, six into space. Kaidan turned to run to the Tempest but then Ryder screamed, “Shepard, come on,” and Kaidan looked back: there was Shepard, standing frozen in place with his sniper rifle loose in his hands, helmet tilted up to stare at the spaced Kett.

When Ryder shouted his name, he didn’t respond. When Kaidan shouted for him, he didn’t even flinch; Kaidan ran back and tried to shove him towards the ship but his boots were locked down.

“Shepard, come on,” Kaidan said. The rumble under his feet was _not_ the Tempest, he knew now, and Ryder was shouting, and SAM was counting down: thirty seconds now. 

“Either I leave him or I leave both of you, I swear to God,” Ryder shouted, but Kaidan focused on Shepard’s breathy whisper:

“I remember. My suit was compromised. I couldn’t breathe.”

No one should have to remember their own death. Kaidan flared his barrier to cover both of them and grabbed Shepard’s faceplate, forced it down.

“John, we have to go _now_. Can you follow me?”

Shepard blinked, as if he didn’t even know Kaidan had been there. He licked his lips. “Yeah.”

Ten seconds. Ryder was on the ramp, leaning down, hand outstretched as it was closing. Kaidan unhooked Shepard’s boots and dragged them both, used his biotics to throw Shepard into the cargo deck and held on to Ryder’s hand. One of the Kett got in a lucky shot, his leg flaring with sudden heat, but he rolled onto the ramp as it clicked shut and tumbled into the Tempest as its gravity took hold.

“FTL in three, two –” Kallo crowed and the ship rumbled and jerked. “Paarchero’s away, and now, so are we.”

The cargo deck was a riot of noise and movement: Pathfinder Raeka and half a dozen salarians, Ryder, Jaal and Kosta, Lexi running in from medical, Drack and his scouts grunting and hollering, and Shepard – where he’d landed, crumpled on the floor – yanked his helmet off and threw up in great, hacking coughs.

Ryder hesitated, anger frozen in place. “What the hell?”

Lexi got to him first, going to her knees and saying softly, “Commander, you’re safe. Try to breathe, now.”

Shepard shook his head and gulped a wheezing breath. His face was ashen and sweaty. “I can’t – I couldn’t –”

A knot of worry and fear crystallized in Kaidan’s gut the moment before it happened: Lexi touched Shepard’s neck, perhaps to feel his pulse or simply ground him, and Shepard shoved her back with a cry of fear. She went sprawling, her arm wrenched under her, and the cargo deck went silent except for Shepard staggering to his feet, wild-eyed and completely dissociated. He’d dropped his rifle but he held his pistol out in a shaky grip.

Kaidan pulled off his armor piece by piece, letting it fall to the floor as he approached. He kept his voice light. “Hey, Shepard, area’s secure.”

Shepard dropped his gun. It glattered to the floor. His chest was heaving erratically and he gasped. “Kaidan, I died.”

“I know,” Kaidan said softly.

“I _died_. The lasts thing I remember is radio silence and watching the Normandy break up and burn–” he was crying now, and hyperventilating, and Kaidan was almost next to him “–and my suit losing air and there was nothing I could do –I was _terrified_. I never thought I would ever feel so scared–”

Kaidan lifted his arms and hadn’t even made contact when Shepard turned and pressed his face against Kaidan’s neck, breaths moaning out of his chest. He held Shepard against him and looked out at the others: the salaraians were gone. Jaal had helped Lexi up and dusted her off as she focused on Kaidan, gesturing him to Kosta’s comfortable nook behind them. The krogan stood silent, and though embarrassment and second-hand shame on Shepard’s behalf prickled at Kaidan’s stomach, none of them laughed or smiled: they looked sad and watchful. Shepard had saved them.

Ryder stood, face dark with anger but expression unsure, as if he had no idea what to do but still knew he hated everything about the situation. And Kosta, standing behind Ryder, hiding, with a nervous smile that made Kaidan so angry his arm tightened around Shepard’s shoulders withotu him even meaning to.

“Go,” Ryder said, gesturing at the supply room. “I’ll talk to him later.”

Kaidan took Shpard into the rec room and shut the door. Locked it. Peeled Shepard’s armor off and ignored the cold stink of fear in his sweat. Aimed Shepard at the couch and got him to sit. Held him with steady arms.

Shepard didn’t notice Kaidan cried too. Knowing that was how Kaidan let himself do it in the first place.

*

_Day 107_

He slept for twenty hours, blearing waking at hour eleven to hit the head, suck down a glucose pouch and go straight back to the couch, dead to the world.

“My rec room is going to stink,” Kosta said, presumably aiming for a joke. When he saw Kaidan’s face he added hastily, “and that’s definitely a sacrifice I’m happy to make for a comrade in need.”

Kaidan didn’t bother responding. He hadn’t been talking much either: he’d been sitting on the floor watching Shepard sleep most of the time until Lexi had pulled him out.

“Shower,” she said, in the morning of hour sixteen, “and then meet me in my lab.”

He followed his doctor’s orders. When he reached medical he found both Lexi and Ryder waiting for him and would’ve walked right back out, except Ryder held out a plate of sandwiches, ‘beef’ on ‘rye’, and Kaidan was hungry enough to stay.

“Doctor T’Perro’s helped me work through some of my anger. I’m still fucking pissed though.”

“Scott,” Lexi said softly, and Ryder held up his hands.

“Hey, I’m not accusing anyone of anything, like you told me. I’m expressing my feelings. I _feel_ completely traumatized that I almost had to leave my two non-childhood heroes to die and I’m pissed and hurt that you put me in that position.”

It was so far from the accusatory lecture he’d been expecting that Kaidan set his plate down and clasped his shaking hands and stared at the far wall.

“Kaidan,” Lexi said, in that same soft, prompting tone.

“What is this,” he said, a joke he knew would fall flat. “Forced mediation?”

“Does it need to be?” She asked, eyebrow arching. “Scott’s told you how he feels. How do you feel?”

“Private,” Kaidan said, but he followed that with a frustrated sigh. “Ryder, did you know I knew Lexi back in the Milky Way?”

To his credit, Ryder didn’t argue the diversion. He shrugged, and shook his head. “She’s not in your medical files we got from the Alliance.”

“My friends set me up on a date to try to cheer me up,” Kaidan said, still avoiding Ryder’s gaze, “about a year after Shepard died. Got free counselling instead.”

“You paid for dinner,” Lexi interjected, eyes warm. “Both times.”

Ryder hummed thoughtfully, obviously holding back a biting comment. Kaidan didn’t want to push his luck.

“I feel,” he said, trying to keep his voice level, “like I could have saved him, back on the Normandy. He ordered me to go. If I’d stayed, gone with him, maybe I could have saved him.”

“Or you both could have died,” Ryder said, and he struck that nerve without realizing it until Kaidan looked up and met his gaze; Ryder’s cool expression crumbled. “But that idea doesn’t bother you so much.”

“I want you to understand why I had to go back for him, when he froze up. Why I couldn’t leave him.” Kaidan’s breath was wet. He sniffed once, coughed, straightened his back out.

“Does he know,” Ryder started, and held up a hand when Kaidan bristled, “that from a _friend_ , a platonic, perspective, that you care that much? That you’d die for him?”

“Ashley did,” Kaidan said softly. “I would’ve. He knows.” But on the Normandy, they had been military; Jenkins died them. They died for each other. It was different out here.

“Scott,” Lexi murmured, and he sighed.

“Yeah. “Yeah, okay, that’s not the matter at hand. As your Pathfinder I need to be able to trust you guys. And I do, except we don’t know what might trigger Shepard again, and if that happens I won’t be able to rely on either of you.”

That stung, but it was a reasonable judgement. “What are you going to do?”

“See how Shepard is when he wakes up. If he wants in the field he needs mental health care from the Doc. Easy runs at first, keeping an eye on Podromos, maybe–”

“Not Podromos,” Kaidan said, as gently as he could. “He’s from – he grew up on Mindoir. Bad associations.”

Ryder grimaced. “Voeld, then. And Kadara, and stuff. And I’m going to watch for him getting bloodthirsty or whatever, in the field. If there’s a repeat of this, I’ll have to bench him. He can choose if that’s on the Tempest or on the Nexus.”

It was so much more than Kaidan would have ever expected from Ryder. He swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Thank you.”

“S’Okay,” Ryder said, shrugging one shoulder with graceful diffidence. “I just hope he’s all right.”


	7. Chapter 7

_Day 129_

Shepard was not okay and Kaidan had messed up – he’d messed up so badly and Shepard was the one suffering for it – 

Kaidan vaulted over the back of the couch and tried to catch Shepard’s fist with his hand; Shepard wrenched his arm free and brought his knuckles down into Kosta’s face again, hard. Something crunched but Kaidan didn’t know who was hurt worse. 

Ryder wasn’t strong enough to keep Shepard off; Gil was useless, back pressed to the wall like he was trying to dig himself out with his shoulderblades; Vetra wasn’t firing off her biotics in such close quarters but without them she had no chance; finally, Drack lumbered in and bodily picked Shepard up, leaving Kosta lying crumpled on the floor with a bloodied face.

And Shepard was wild – feral – he writhed in Drack’s grip and howled wordlessly, spitting, until Lexi slipped in and jabbed him with a tranquilizer. Even then, he twitched, kicking fruitlessly into the air until his eyes rolled back and he went limp.

“Liam – here –” Ryder helped him up, and shot a glare back – not at Kaidan or Shepard, but at Lexi. “He can stay locked up in here. I need you in medical with me and Liam.”

Drack laid Shepard down on the couch with breathtaking care, and turned to Kaidan. “S’nothing we haven’t all wanted to do.”

“I didn’t hear what Liam said,” Gil murmured, eyes wide, face pale. “Liam said something that just…set him off.”

Kaidan couldn’t find his voice. He couldn’t speak. Shepard’s limp hands had glistening red scrapes, beading blood and staining the couch.

“Let’s go somewhere quiet,” Vetra said – to Kaidan, he realized dully. “You need to…”

He shook his head, and gestured at Shepard.

“I think,” Gil said, “she might be worried about you. Him hurting you.”

“I’m out.” Drack clapped Kaidan on the shoulder hard enough that his eyes watered. “No changing this kid’s mind.”

“Do you want someone to stay with you?” Vetra asked, her mandibles twitching uncertainly.

He shook his head, and waited in still silence for everyone to leave. Vetra was last: she glanced at Shepard’s prone form and said, “Whatever Ryder says – just – if you stick by him. He needs his family, and that’s you.”

When Kaidan shifted to be closer to him, she nodded, and locked the door behind her.

Kaidan sagged, knees buckling, and sat heavily on the floor by Shepard’s head; he clamped his hand over his mouth and breathed carefully, counting in his head. Clockwork breaths to match the slow rise and fall of Shepard’s chest, ignoring the wetness dripping down his cheeks, over his fingers.

He’d thought Shepard was doing better. He had meetings with Lexi every third day, he talked about the attack on the Normandy without breaking down, he was laughing and joking with friends and going on missions, until Kosta had said something – a murmured remark in the middle of movie night – and this was the end result. One step forward and a hundred steps back and Kaidan didn’t even have a map.

He wanted to touch Shepard so badly. To be close. Shepard had been okay. Maybe even normal. Except he hadn’t been talking to Kaidan. Not actual conversations about anything real, and Kaidan had let him keep hiding. This was Kaidan’s fault.

Shepard stirred, a hoarse murmur at the back of his throat, but didn’t wake up. No doubt Lexi had knocked him out for a couple of hours.

The door opened and Ryder clattered in, red with indignation. But his voice was cold and quiet.

“Here in front of him, or out there. Now.”

The last thing Kaidan wanted was another dressing down but if Shepard woke up to Ryder yelling, the worst could happen. He hauled himself to his feet and followed Ryder out – Ryder locked the door behind them – into the cargo bay, which was so cavernously quiet and empty everyone was definitely listening in.

“I _feel_ ,” Ryder spat, “like I am done wasting my time and trust on someone who is obviously unfit for duty.”

“You’re right,” Kaidan said, surprising even himself. His voice was so hoarse it felt hollow. “He needs more time. I’ll talk to him, figure if the Tempest or–”

“No.” Ryder’s fists twisted, and only then did Kaidan realize just how angry he was. “You choose the Nexus or the fucking brig for him, Kaidan, and I’m not convinced about option one.”

“He’s not a criminal.”

Ryder stepped up. He was taller than Kaidan, and the tendons in his neck were taut like bowstrings. He growled, “You take your psycho boyfriend–”

“Don’t call him that,” Kaidan spat back, anger finally waking up inside him but all Ryder did was scream in his face:

“You take your psycho one-sided crush and you get the _hell off my ship_. Is that clear?”

All of a sudden, Kaidan thought of Vyrnnus. It was a different situation, and Ryder was a good guy despite this, but that deep, burning resentment felt the same; he remembered the look in Vyrnnus’ eyes, and he remembered how Shepard had been the first person who wasn’t proud or disgusted or surprised or _anything_. Just sympathetic. Didn’t treat him any differently afterwards. Didn’t make him feel like a freak.

“Okay,” he said, voice expressionless, face like stone. “I’ll pack our things.”

It pierced through Ryder’s anger sharper than any argument would have: as Kaidan moved to clear out their bunks in the crew quarters he tracked Ryder in his peripheral vision and saw his whole face crumple, eyes wet and mouth curled in distress. Neither of them spoke.

*

When Shepard woke it was fast and painful, him gasping for breath and choking down a noise of panic; he held Kaidan’s hand for a finger-bruising second before letting go like he’d touched a hot coal.

“Why did I do that?” he asked, staring at his torn knuckles. “He said…I don’t remember.”

Kaidan nodded, and passed him some water. “We’re going to head back to the Nexus.”

Shepard tugged at Kaidan’s shoulder until he climbed up off the floor and sat next to Shepard on the couch instead. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“Bullshit.”

The sound of Shepard’s shocked laugh warmed Kaidan to the core. “I stand corrected.”

There was a brush of warmth against Kaidan’s fingers. He gripped Shepard’s hand. Interlaced their fingers and breathed slowly to calm his fluttering heart.

“How’s Kosta?”

“I have no idea. Ryder would’ve mentioned if it was really bad, though.”

Shepard made a small noise Kaidan couldn’t read: empty acknowledgement. He shifted, knee bumping against Kaidan’s. “What would I do without you, Alenko?”

“I don’t know.” Kaidan kept his voice light. “You won’t have to find out.”

*

_Day 131_

Ryder didn’t even say goodbye: he rushed off the Tempest as soon as it had docked, leaving Cora standing awkwardly at the airlock as Kaidan and Shepard made ready to disembark.

“Please tell me you’ll keep yourself safe,” she said, eyeing Shepard as he clasped arms with Drack.

She meant well. She said it out of friendship. His resentment must have shown on his face, because she muttered an apology and bumped her fist against his shoulder.

Kosta wasn’t there, which Kaidan couldn’t judge in the slightest, but when Suvi stayed up in the cockpit – twisting round in her seat and shrinking back at the sound of Shepard’s voice – Kaidan met her sad eyes with a stony stare. She turned back, shoulders slumped.

Vetra had stuck by Shepard to say goodbye, of course, jostling elbows with Drack and Gil. Kaidan would have thanked them for not shutting Shepard out if he’d been able to do so without being condescending. What surprised him was Jaal striding up to Shepard and saying something, quiet and intense, and pressing a small object into Shepard’s hand. Shepard glanced down at it, bit his lip, and nodded seriously.

“At least I know someone with worse taste than me,” Peebee said archly, sticking her head out of her room.

“I was there when we met your ex,” Kaidan said gruffly. “She tried to kill us.”

“Details,” she responded with false, airy dismissiveness. She shifted in that way she did when she wanted to say something but wanted to _not want to_. “I’ll miss your dumb grumpy silences, you know.”

“Only because I’m not nosy about all your…everything.”

She grinned. “Hey, a healthy respect for my history’s personal space is a rare quality. But you know, at least this way I can crash on your couch next time we dock.”

“I’ll be on the couch,” Kaidan said, and though he tried to inject a warning tone into his voice, her face transformed into a ridiculous leer. He held up his hand. “I know, I know, you don’t have to–”

“I didn’t know your couch was big enough for the both of you.”

Kaidan rolled his eyes and she laughed, closing the door without further comment.

Shepard touched Kaidan lightly on the arm. Up close his eyes were framed with purpled puffy tiredness, bloodshot whites and small pupils. “You ready?”

Both of their bags were heavy with armor and pistols – Ryder hadn’t said they could take them, but hadn’t forbidden it either – and Kaidan hefted his silently.

“Thanks, Harper,” Shepard said, and led Kaidan out.

*

The customs officer called the Tempest about their bags, but someone gave the okay and she waved them through.

The crowd jostled them as they made their way to the main causeway.

The fake sky was fading orange and umber.

“Kaidan, you’re shaking,” Shepard said and stood far too close, leaning down towards him.

“I, uh,” Kaidan said, and stared at the dip of Shepard’s throat where his collar had slipped. “I don’t actually have a berth here.”

Shepard rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll take turns on the couch.”

“I didn’t want to assume.”

“Bullshit.” Shepard slung his arm around Kaidan’s shoulder, pulling him along. The deep, warm scent of him curled in Kaidan’s stomach.

“Kaidan – Kaidan, hey, you’re okay? You’re here!”

Kaidan stopped dead, and let Shepard turn him round. He could’ve shaken Shepard’s arm off in that moment, but he never would.

Becker still looked good – blue eyes, paler than Shepard’s, strong features, a bright smile; with the mortifying distance of three months Kaidan realized just how similar they looked. Becker blinked when he saw Shepard, and stuck his hand out: his left, so Shepard wouldn’t have to unhook from Kaidan’s shoulders.

“Jack Becker, Colonial Affairs. Good to meet you, Shepard.”

Shepard shook his hand. Kaidan couldn’t see his face. “I guess I shouldn’t introduce myself. You know Kaidan?”

Becker glanced between them, at Shepard’s arm, and his smile lost some of its ease. “Yeah. I ran interference between him and Addison once.”

“Brave,” Shepard said, and laughed. “Kaidan, you know where my place is. I’ll let you two catch up.”

“Sure,” Kaidan said automatically, and winced as Shepard took both their bags and made his goodbyes. While Shepard left, Kaidan couldn’t quite meet Becker’s eyes.

“Come on,” Becker said softly. “Don’t be scared of me. Please.”

Kaidan rubbed his face, nodded. “Jack, I’m not scared. I’m absolutely ashamed of myself. I’m sorry. I should have explained what was going on.”

“Yeah.” Becker stuck his hands in his pockets and shuffled uncomfortably. “Look, it’s not as bad as all that. It would have been nice to hear from you, but I don’t – I didn’t have any claim on you. And I could tell how much you…you didn’t know he was here, did you?” 

Kaidan shook his head, gave him a wry smile. “It was a big shock.”

“Bad timing. Us. A day later and it would have been different – we wouldn’t have spent the night together, and you wouldn’t feel so damn awkward about it.”

That made Kaidan laugh, and he reached out to shake Becker’s hand. Becker nudged his arm aside and hugged him, skin warm and chest hard.

“You on the Nexus for a while?” he asked, and after Kaidan nodded he said, “let me know if you want to meet. As friends.”

“You’re a good man,” Kaidan murmured.

“We all are,” Becker replied, and his mouth curved into a small, private smile.

*

Three hours: that was how long Shepard managed to wait; they were sitting opposite each other eating a spiced soy loaf and salad from hydroponics, knees comfortably knocking together, when Shepard said, “So, Jack. Jack Becker.”

Kaidan set his cutlery down on the table and stared at his hands. “What do you want to know?”

There was a long pause. When Kaidan glanced up he saw Shepard’s thoughtful, indecisive look. “I thought – well. I didn’t know you were into guys. Bi?”

If anything confirmed Shepard didn’t know about how Kaidan felt, that was it. It was a good thing he didn’t know. It was a good thing. Kaidan shrugged, aiming for nonchalance.

“It never came up. I wasn’t trying to hide it.”

Shepard nodded. “I’m gay, but I guess that never came up either.”

“Okay,” Kaidan said, purely on automatic.

“This is coming out all wrong.” Shepard blew out an angry sigh. “Did I read it right, that you and Becker had a thing? Slept together?”

Kaidan made himself nod.

“Well, don’t let me get in the way. You should give him a call now we’re back.”

Kaidan’s throat hurt. “I’m not really looking right now. I want to focus on you.”

“You’re not my nurse. Go have your own life.”

 _I don’t want to_ would just sound pathetic. “Is that what you want me to do?”

Shepard fell silent, his face slack. “Yes?”

“I’ll take that under advisement.” Kaidan picked up his fork, stabbed a lettuce leaf far too hard and shrieked the fork across the plate. “But if it’s all the same to you, I won’t.”

Maybe that was relief in Shepard’s eyes. Maybe that was wishful thinking on Kaidan’s part.

“I’m glad you weren’t alone,” Shepard softly. “When I wasn’t…”

“I get it.” Kaidan bumped his foot against Shepard’s.

“Don’t kick me, you jerk,” Shepard said, and kicked him in the shin, his smile suddenly blinding bright.


	8. Chapter 8

_Day 137_

Without an actual psychologist, or even a doctor to trust like Lexi, Shepard’s options were limited. So Kaidan cleared out every other day so Shepard could talk to SAM – “Better than nothing,” Shepard had said, “and at least he _knows_ everything” – and in the meantime Kaidan did his own thing. He helped repair the hydroponics cases, tracked down a self-populating virus that kept on killing the cucumbers, checked in with Kesh and worked with her techs when shifts were tight. It was good work. Kaidan should have been satisfied with it.

When he received a message from SAM to report to the Hyperion, the thrill of intrigue and the unknown made the routine maintenance pale in comparison. He headed over, went to Ryder’s private quarters at SAM’s instruction, and came face-to-face with a tall, slender woman with Scott’s dark eyes, his furrowed brow.

“Sara Ryder, I presume,” he said, and shook her hand. “I didn’t know you’d woken up.”

She smiled, gestured him inside. “A week of taking it easy, Harry’s orders.”

She didn’t move like Ryder: she was economical where he was bouncy, thoughtful rather than expansive. She sat at the wide desk with legs neatly crossed; behind her, the monitors were dark.

“How can I help you, Ms Ryder?”

She shot him a flat, unimpressed look. “Sarah, please. And mostly, I wanted to thank you. Harry told me what you did for me on day one.”

“The doctor told you,” Kaidan repeated slowly. Ryder had been so grateful. So excited. Kaidan had certainly burst that bubble.

“Scott’s not so fond of you right now, no,” she said. “But he’s a judgmental asshole when his feelings are hurt, so I assume you’re far more of an asset than he’ll admit. I know you’ve been helping out where you can.”

“Judgmental asshole,” Kaidan repeated, trying to keep the shock from his face.

“Hey, I read your file, I know you don’t have siblings. Trust me, he’s said far worse to my face.” She gestured to the couch and Kaidan realized he’d been just standing there; he sat and folded his hands on his knees.

“Ryder and I disagreed about Shepard. I hope we can work together in the future.”

“Well, I need you now.” She frowned – downtick of her brows, biting her lip just like her brother did – and handed him a datapad. “Long story short, my brother’s unlocking some memories of our mom and dad and it’s raised some questions about the Nexus. I’d like your help investigating it.”

Kaidan thumbed through the datapad, most recent data first. A mysterious benefactor to the Initiative, Jien Garson’s suspicious death, SAM’s development to treat Ellen Ryder’s Eezo-induced disease – 

“Hey, of course,” he said softly, tracing the image of Ryder’s mother. “I didn’t connect it until now. I was just a kid.”

Sara cocked her head, glanced down at the datapad as if she could read it from there. “Share with the class?”

“I, uh, knew your mom. She was one of the Conatix doctors working with me and my family, after my mom was exposed while she was pregnant with me.”

Sara’s expression softened. “What do you remember about her?”

“She was kind. More interested in me than the others were. She used to ask me what I was reading, how school was going.” He closed his eyes, tried to think of more. “She got me to call her Ellen. God, I must’ve just forgotten her surname. When the side effects came in from my implant, she couldn’t come. She was somewhere abroad, with young kids – babies.”

“Jesus,” Sara muttered, her smile luminous and sad.

“But she talked to me about my migraines, helped me identify triggers and plan how to avoid them. When Shepard and I rescued Burns from the other L2s, she sent me a message. She apologized. She’s helped develop the early gen implants. No one had ever said sorry before.”

He realized he’d choked up, and rubbed at the implant scar at the back of his neck. “She said she was sick. She wanted me to know that, uh, what we did made things better for the later gens. Both me and Shepard, me and her when I was younger. That she was proud of both of us.”

Sarah’s fingers trailed over her own implant. “I’ve got an enhanced L4. Dad had said I should have an L3, for safety, but Mom and I both felt the cutting edge is how we make the road safer for those who come after us. That’s what she said.”

It wasn’t surprising Ellen had a biotic child: given the eezo exposure she’d had, it was more surprising that Scott wasn’t one too.

“I’m glad I asked to you to see me,” Sara said. “I’m happy to share this with you. But it’s a digression. Jien Garson’s death strikes us both as odd, so I’m looking into it. I don’t like working alone, and I’d rather work with you.”

Kaidan felt himself blush. “Thank you, Sara. I need to say, though, about Shepard…”

“You haven’t reported any further incidents.” She sighed. “I’m going to trust that you would have. If nothing else, bringing him on will let me form my own opinion. But I think humanity’s first SPECTRE will be more use than that, PTSD or no.”

Relief flooded through Kaidan so strongly he could have cried with its force. “I can’t describe how reassuring it is to hear you say that, Sara.”

“That’s the thing, about being the kind of guy who puts people on pedestals,” she said, and he knew she meant her brother. “They tend to take it personally when their heroes turn out to be real people. He did it with our dad, too. He’ll chill out. He always does.”

“And in the meantime,” Kaidan said, letting his enthusiasm show in his smile, “we have some work to do.”

*

_Day 151_

Sara, it turned out, was actually fun to be around – not exhausting like her brother, not so impatient and catty. Perhaps Kaidan should have felt guilty about preferring her company, but then he would remember Ryder screaming in the cargo bay and would find his guilt diminished.

They made a good team, her and Kaidan and Shepard, and when they needed information from Colonial Affairs and Nexus databses, it felt easy and inevitable that Becker would get involved too. And when Sara invited Kaidan to grab a drink – “As friends,” she clarified firmly – it felt like the nautral next step that Shepard and Becker would hit it off too.

“I don’t want anything to be weird,” Becker murmured to Kaidan once, over coffee, “but he really seems like he could use another friend.” And that was never something Kaidan would argue, even if it did feel strange.

So it was that all four of them met at Jien Garson’s scene of death, an apartment tucked out of the way on the Nexus; SAM came along on Sara’s omni-tool, helping her scan the same way he would for Ryder. Kaidan wasn’t entirely sure _how_ SAM could reconstruct the scene, even with quantum scanning and the power of an honest-to-god AI, but Sara showed the three of them with a holographic projection: tall, broad-shouldered, likely male, standing over Garson’s dead body.

“Weird, huh,” he commented wryly to Shepard, but Shepard was staring at the projection with gritted teeth, a tendon ticking in his jaw. He didn’t respond; Kaidan edged closer to him, trying to think of what to say.

“What was Garson even doing here?” Becker murmured. “This whole area was shuttered back then. Unless there’s something here we can’t see.”

“I’ll scan for any hidden nooks and crannies,” Sara said, flicking her omni-tool back on.

Shepard gave a whole-body twitch and strode to the entrance hall, fingers trailing along the wall with exploratory gentleness. He stopped, ran his hand down the join between two panels, and pushed open a hidden door while everyone watched.

“There’s something behind that wall, by the way,” Sara said pointedly. “Shepard, how did you now?”

He shivered. His eyes were oddly vacant. “Architecture of the room. Missing five feet from the southern wall.”

“Fair enough,” she said as SAM agreed with him. “Mind if I do the honors?”

She edged past him into the hidden room. Kaidan hung back. He wanted to touch Shepard but didn’t want to invade his space; he knew Shepard was upset but didn’t know why but he needed to respect Shepard’s privacy –

“You’re the tech,” Becker said gently, nudging him forward. “I’ll hang back.”

And keep an eye on Shepard, he meant. Kaidan nodded gratefully and joined Sara in a small, dark room that smelled strongly of must and mold, and underneath that, blood.

“She left some information behind,” Sara said, her voice far-away in thought. She handed Kaidan a datapad:

_Garson Notes. Entry 1.1 (2819). In 2179, once mentioned “A storm is coming.” Said “evidence was clear.” Meaning? Andromeda – why? Hyperion, still no contact. Where is Alec? Did they get him, too?_

“And she recorded something,” she added, grimacing. “It’s not pretty. SAM, play on external speakers, please.”

Garson was afraid and desperate. Kaidan couldn’t imagine the trauma of travelling all this way to be hunted down – to be in danger from someone from your own ship.

 _“…I can hear them down in the hydroponics area – they’re coming. I’ve embedded what I know in my VI in the Cultural Center. This log has the code. And whatever happens – oh god, they’re outside the door…wait,”_ said Garson’s recorded voice, her fear broken by confusion and surprise. _“You? But how? You’re – no, please!”_

The sound of a struggle, a wet smack – there, on the corner of the table. Garson’s attacker had thrown her against it and drawn blood, injured her badly enough to silence her immediately.

He went back through Garson’s fragmented and rushed autopsy. “The plasma burns weren’t post-mortem. Her attacker subdued her, dragged her out here, and burned her while she was still alive.”

“But didn’t secure the information in here. Why would they leave these recordings?”

“Either they didn’t see it as a threat, or controlling the flow of information was never the point.”

Sara nodded slowly, her eyes roving around the room. “I don’t think Tann knows anything. He’s just scared of upsetting the status quo – if she was murdered, everything’s more at risk. His job especially.”

Kaidan glanced back: Shepard had retreated from the doorway and was rubbing his forehead with the heel of one hand. Becker was patting him on the shoulder.

“Hey,” Kaidan said, joining them. “Shepard, you got a headache?”

“A little claustrophobic looking in there,” he said, jutting his chin towards the secret room. “I’m okay.”

Sara came out, closing the door behind her with a grave expression. “She included a codeword. Let’s see what her VI has to say.”

It was a short walk to the cultural center. Kaidan watched Shepard, watched how he rushed past the VI of himself – hurriedly repatched to reflect him not being dead – and stick near Sara’s side. With him on the Nexus for weeks, there was something _diminished_ about him: broad shoulders hunched, head down. He looked defeated. But he was calmer, and hey – if he could admit to feeling claustrophobic, that was a huge step forward.

Sara had reached Garson’s VI and was staring into the middle distance, the way Ryder did when listening to something on his private channel. She caught his eye, shook her head sharply.

“She brought in this ‘Benefactor’ because of money. A silent partner that she hid from her allies. They wanted to move people out of the Milky Way because something spooked them.”

“One hell of a spook, to head to another galaxy,” Kaidan said.

“She says – said – ny dad would know more. Gave a codeword. I think Scott’s going to have to take it forward. Pathfinder stuff.” She frowned. “Thanks, guys.”

“Is that it?” Becker asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Like I said, Scott has some Pathfinder stuff he has to do.” Sara’s gaze was still distant. “Garson had a secret investor with mysetious intentions, and she suspected they wanted to remove her. Whoever it is, I imagine they killed her. We can’t know any more right now.”

“Oh.” Becker pulled a sour face. “That’s a let-down. I mean, if there’s more I can do, tell me?”

She gave him a faint smile. “Of course. If you folks will excuse me, though, I’m going to go talk to my brother.”

She patted Kaidan’s shoulder as she left. Becker sighed, staring at Garson’s VI; Shepard stuffed his hands in his pockets and kicked his heels at the ground.

“I guess we did it,” Kaidan said. “As much as we could, anyway.”

“Doesn’t feel finished,” Shepard muttered, low and sullen.

“Want to get drunk?” Becker asked; Shepard gave him a sudden, sharp grin, and nudged Kaidan with his elbow.

It was a terrible idea. Kaidan nodded anyway. 

*

Becker’s place was light and airy and clean, a painting of a roiling red sun dominating one wall and warming the light from the usual blue, migraine-tapping fluorescents. He had moonshine, and actual bourbon, and six bottles of Canadian lager.

“I wondered where you got these,” Shepard said, sprawled on Becker’s couch and finally relaxed.

“He shared them with you, then,” Becker said hesitantly.

“Oh, no.” Shepard shrugged. “I was feeling like shit and drank them all while Kaidan was away.”

“Jerk.” Becker laughed and kicked Shepard in the shin.

“Hey, it went to a good home.” Shepard kicked him back. They were both loose-limbed and smiling, warm light making Becker’s hair spark with golden highlights. Shepard’s eyes shone with threads of green.

“Wow,” Becker said. “I didn’t know drunk-Kaidan would be so mellow.”

“He isn’t normally,” Shepard said, smiling. “I think he’s a little more relaxed now.”

Kaidan was in the armchair, legs comfortably numb, gripping his glass tight enough to make sure he didn’t drop it. “I’m just happy with the view. I’m happy.

Shepard gave him an odd look that he couldn’t figure out past the haze of alcohol. He said, “You deserve to be happy, Kaidan.”

Warm flush of butterflies in Kaidan’s stomach. He drank a little more, let Becker and Shepard’s conversation wash over him. They were smiling at each other a lot. Maybe they’d end up interested in each other: a thought so sharp and uncomfortable he’d been swallowing it down. Right now, it didn’t seem so bad.

“You deserve it too,” Kaidan said. “Both of you. To be happy.”

The conversation had moved well on before he spoke, but neither of them seemed to mind: Shepard gave him a gentle, warm smile, and when Becker brought him a refill he held Kaidan’s gaze for a heated breath.

Kaidan felt his numb face heat up. He watched his own hands as he drank. He thought about anything _but_ Shepard and Becker because if he gave in his own body would betray him.

The room was quiet, he realized: they’d moved into the kitchenette, the sounds of crockery being stowed away covering quiet, murmured conversation. A private conversation. 

Kaidan didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he wasn’t deaf. He heard his own name, and couldn’t help –   
“-deserves better than that,” Shepard said softly.

“I don’t think it’s about deserving. You both think about that way too much, what each other _deserve_. Why not think for a minute about what you want?”

“This is the real world.” Shepard’s voice had gone hard. “We don’t get what we want.”

“You could both get this. If you let is happen.”

“Jack –”

“John.”

A pause. “I can’t do it to him. It feels cruel.”

Kaidan didn’t want to hear anymore. He stumbled to his feet and leant against the doorway of the kitchenette. Shepard looked at him with naked distress and a bright, longing warmth in his eyes that Kaidan recognized from looking in a goddamn mirror.

“Kaidan,” he said, his hands gripping the countertop with white knuckles and trembling arms. “Kaidan.”

Becker slipped out and bumped against Kaidan on his way, pushing him into the kitchen. Shepard let go of the counter to hold him up, warm hands against Kaidan’s chest.

“What don’t you want to do to me, Shepard?” he asked, heart pounding.

“You’re – you left the Tempest for me. Pissed off Ryder for me. Don’t everything – I can’t ask any more of you.” Shepard’s voice was raw and husky. “I should be happy with what I have.”

“You need a friend,” Kaidan said, “not someone sitting around mooning over you–”

Shepard laughed, fingers tightening their grip on Kaidan’s shirt. “IS that what you’re doing, Alenko?”

“John,” Kaidan whispered, and took a deep breath. “I have been for a very long time.”

“A long time.” Shepard’s mouth was so soft.

“Six hundred and thirty-six years, give or take.” As Kaidan said it, panic welled in his gut – he shouldn’t be making light of it, drawing attention – but then Shepard cradled Kaidan’s head in his hands, thumbs against cheekbones and fingers along his jaw, and stared at him so intently his mind fell silent.

“Kaidan, come home with me,” Shepard said. And so he did.

He followed Shepard, wordless, while Becker watched with hooded eyes and intent concentration; he followed Shepard home and held his hand as they went into the bedroom.

“We’re drunk,” Shepard said. “And this isn’t about sex.”

Kaidan felt himself pout. “I’d hope it was at least a little, Shepard.”

Shepard paused, lips pursed with embarrassment. It was a new look for him – no shame, just a pink blush twist of self-consciousness. It was a good look.

“Well,” Shepard said, “Given that I’m interested in the emotional stability to support repeat activities, I want to wait.”

“You can’t be that drunk,” Kaidan pointed out, letting his hands lift and touch Shepard’s shoulders. “You said a lot of long words and didn’t slur them at all.”

“ _You’re_ drunk, sweetheart,” Shepard said, and carded his fingers through Kaidan’s hair. Whatever he said after that was lost in the sparking, warm haze of his fingernails against Kaidan’s scalp, against the sensitive skin at the nape of his neck an inch above his implant.

“Wow, okay,” Shepard said softly. “Come here.”

Clothes off, undershirt and boxers still on; Kaidan pressed his mouth against Shepard’s neck and breathed in deep enough to deflate the last shreds of tension in his back; he might have tried for more but Shepard kept his fingers stroking Kaidan’s neck and it short-circuited everything until Kaidan was lying on his stomach, moaning into the pillow but far too loose-limbed to do anything at all.

“You’re beautiful,” Shepard said, wonderingly. Kaidan smiled into the pillow and his eyes slid shut.


	9. Chapter 9

_Day 168_

It was like before – odd jobs, Shepard holing himself u in the apartment to talk to SAM every other day – except now when Kaidan came home Shepard would venture out of the bedroom and smile and talk, and mess up Kaidan’s hair; once, he took one look at Kaidan and crowded him up against the door, hand down the front of Kaidan’s pants and everything hitting him like a biotic shockwave.

It was still hard but at least Kaidan knew now when Shepard had nightmares, or bouts of agitated insomnia: he would wake in the night too and curl up around Shepard’s back, pressing his mouth to the plane of Shepard’s muscles. 

What they had was so new and bright, Kaidan wanted to shout about it; he had no one to really turn to. Sara was busy – _a family issue_ , which made more sense once the Tempest docked a week later – and when Kaidan told him, Becker smiled faintly without saying anything; Kaidan admired his self-control as it was. He didn’t want to test it further. He sent a note to Lexi, nothing more than a reassurance that they were okay, but he missed Liara. Karin. Joker. Ashley. All with an occasional force that left him breathlessly sad, for no justifiable reason. He had left them, after all. 

When Sara asked him back to her quarters on the Hyperion, it was a relief to know there’d be something else on his mind: short-lived relief, if he was brutally honest, when he entered to find Ryder there too. He was haggard and gray-faced, stubble making him look much older, and when he saw Kaidan his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“Thank you fo joining us,” he said, and sat down heavily at Sara’s desk. “There’s some…”

He broke off and stared at Kaidan, really stared, until Kaidan twitched and sent a searching look at Sara.

She pointed at her neck, raised an eyebrow; Kaidan missed it for a moment but then felt his own neckline, where is jacket collar had slipped down to reveal the purple-red marks Shepard had made the night before. He’d been so pleased with himself, especially after Kaidan had muttered darkly about professionalism, and _oh God, he was flaunting his hickeys to the Pathfinder_.

Sara burst out laughing. “I wasn’t sure if you were showing them off on purpose.”

Ryder’s face had flushed, but he still looked exhausted and pale. He avoided Kaidan’s gaze. “So, Remnant cities are built by some extinct alien race and Meridian’s some missing thing we’ve almost found. You haven’t missed all that much, I guess. Thanks for helping Sara. Garson’s codeword was the last key to unlock Dad’s memory engrams, and we were able to find out some stuff. So that’s good.”

“Stuff,” Kaidan said cautiously.

“Family stuff.” Ryder’s voice was cold.

“But also,” Sarah said, elbowing her brother in the side, “we found out our dad had been working with the Benefactor. I don’t think he knew that the Benefactor was going to go after Garson–”

“Of course he didn’t,” Ryder snapped, obviously in the groove of a well-worn argument – 

“But Dad knew more about that ‘coming storm’. He and the Benefactor both knew what was coming to the Milky Way. What was coming that we needed to get out ahead of.”

Kaidan sat down on the edge of the bed. He’d gone cold. “The Reapers.”

“I know the Council wasn’t so sure about what Shepard said,” Ryder said quietly, “but Dad believed him. So he and the Benefactor got everyone out.”

 _Perhaps Sovereign had been lying,_ Kaidan had told himself while signing up for the Initiative. _Maybe the Council are right. Maybe Shepard had been wrong._

“Shepard was right,” he said, and when they both nodded he took a moment to sit still and breathe and pretend he wasn’t at the edge of a precipice. “Something happened after we left, and you’ve found out something about it.”

“Play it to him,” Sara said to her brother, nodding to the console. Ryder tapped a command and it was everything they had feared, heads together on the Normandy and figuring out the worst case scenarios. Palaven under attack. Chains of command breaking. The Alliance floundering. Kaidan clenched his hands and gritted his teeth and made himself calm until Ryder started the third recording – 

Ryder paused Liara’s voice; Kaidan croaked out a thanks and closed his eyes. Breathed.

They would all be dead now anyway, he told himself. They either died six hundred and thirty years ago or they died a little bit later. Except Liara; she’d still be centuries from Matriarch-hood. But this was her telling Alec Ryder to expect the worst, asking his children not to forget them…

“There’s something for you too.” Ryder’s eyes finally softened. “I stopped, didn’t listen. Figured you should be the first.”

Kaidan gasped, nodded, brushed the tears from his eyes. “Go on.”

“Pathfinder,” Liara said, “forgive the oddity of this request, but please – find Kaidan Alenko, of the Hyperion. We used to work together.” A beat. Her voice was soft. Her breath hitched once. “Kaidan. When he found you’d gone…” – she laughed, and Kaidan could hear the tears behind it – “well. You can’t imagine how much we miss you, Kaidan. How much Shepard misses you. It’s bad here. I don’t know if we will win, but you know Shepard. He’s confident.”

Her voice stopped suddenly; Ryder had paused it again. Kaidan blinked at the blue haze in the room and unclenched his hands, released the biotic energy into the air. Sara sat down next to him and held his hand.

“We understand why,” Liara said from twenty-three million light-years away. “We understand why you left. And honestly, call me selfish if you must, but knowing that my friend is safe gives me strength I didn’t know how to have. I am so glad that you got out, my dear, dear friend. Know that we all love you dearly. And please. Remember us.”

*

Sara walked Kaidan back to his and Shepard’s apartment. His hands were shaking. Sara had her arm hooked around his.

“I’ll explain to him,” she murmured, “if you need me to.”

“He deserves to hear it from me,” Kaidan said. He could barely hear his own voice.

They reached the apartment; Kaidan stared at the door and blanked out until Sara lifted his wrist up so he could unlock it. The door opened. Shepard was inside, reading at the desk terminal, and when he saw Kaidan’s state he shot Sara a disapproving glare, took Kaidan in his arms.

“The Reapers,” Kaidan said, and tried not to cry. “The Reapers came, after we left. It doesn’t – it didn’t look good. I don’t know what happened as them.”

Shepard held him at arm’s length and looked down at him with a pitying, quizzical smile, eyebrow raised and eyes sad. “Kaidan, of course. That – I didn’t…”

He shook his head tightly, looked to Sara. Kaidan shut his eyes and let Sara’s voice wash over him – the recordings of Liara, Hackett – and if he cried then, at least his face was pressed against Shepard’s chest, and no one would be able to tell. 

Shepard started ruffling his hands through Kaidan’s hair, mails trailing along his scalp. It pushed everything else away for a little while, but then Shepard stopped and let him to the couch and sat him down. Sara was gone.

“Kaidan,” he said, and unhappy twist to his mouth. “why do you think this has been so hard for me? I _knew_ the Reapers were coming – I still have the Prothean stuff in my head – I knew back then. I knew after we stopped Saren when the Council were trying to argue. I _knew_ , for certain, when I told Anderson never to stop preparing. I knew when I woke up here that it happened while I was asleep. This whole time, four months I’ve been awake here and I’ve been thinking to myself: ‘fuck. If I’m the only Shepard then I left them in the fucking lurch when the Reapers came.’. There was never any doubt.”

“You never said,” Kaidan muttered, and God, he was going to break down if he didn’t get a grip on himself.

“I’m not going to angst about leaving my friends behind to the guy who chose to,” Shepard snapped, pinching the bridge of his nos. “It would just make you feel worse and I wish I could get you to forgive yourself, but at the very least I can try to keep my shit from dragging you down.”

The emotional whiplash of it – the guilt of _chose to_ \- Shepard’s boneheaded stubbornness and compassion and secrecy – Kaidan tensed up to hold everything in and that was it: no warning, just blinding pain and white-out blurred vision, and Shepard leant him forwards; when he gagged on the pain Shepard murmured, “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

First part sure as hell wasn’t true, but Kaidan would take the second. It was enough.


	10. Chapter 10

_Day 170_

Sara hadn’t told Kaidan why he needed to visit the Hyperion again so soon, and when she took him to the cry-bay, he stood worrying and remembering Ryder dragging him there with no explanation to find Shepard.

“I thought you’d want to know too,” Sara whispered, nervous smile lighting up her features. She led him deep into the rows of sleeping colonists and showed him one that looked identical to all the others.

“Elizabeth Reilly,” Kaidan read from the console. “I don’t know the name.” But then Sara switched on the monitoring video, and he blinked in shock.

“Dad figured we’d work out a cure one day,” she said, linking arms with him again. “So he brought her. I don’t understand the secrecy, except maybe he didn’t trust the Benefactor with knowing about her, so we’re still keeping it secret. But Scott’s gone back out to the Jardaan city and I am bursting here.”

“Your mom’s alive,” Kaidan said and hugged her. “That’s amazing. It really is.”

“Thank you,” she said, muffled by his shoulder, which didn’t make a whole lot of sense to him. “When I woke up having missed so much – four months! – I figured I wouldn’t have a place here, but you’re a good friend, Kaidan.”

“You’ve only known me a month, give me time,” he said wryly, and she shoved him back a couple of steps with a grin on her face.

“You are such a jerk to yourself,” she said. “But that’s okay, I –”

The ship bucked underfoot; Kaidan grabbed the bulkhead wall to keep himself upright and blinked in the suddenly dim emergency lights.

“SAM?” Sara asked, cocking her head to the ceiling as if that’s where it was. But there was no answer for several heartbeats. Her voice wavered as she repeated the AI’s name.

“Apologies,” SAM said, voice distorted and staticky. “here are intruders onboard the Hyperion. Please arm yourselves.”

Somewhere outside the cryobay came the scattered sound of gunfire, the harsh echo of screaming. Kaidan’s gun was back on the Nexus, and neither of them were in armor.

“Kett,” SAM added, wavered. “Kett forces have disrupted my connection with the Pathfinder. Please reset at the main comm relay.”

Swearing under her breath, Sarah moved forward out of cryo. Kaidan followed, locked down cryo behind them to protect the colonists while security moved to guard the entrance to the medical bay.

“Kaidan, with me,” Sara called out. “No, Fisher, keep your sidearm. We’ll be fine.”

The external comms were down – there was no bringing Shepard in – but Captain Dunn kept up steady orders, assignments, reassurances over an open line; Kaidan half-listened as he and Sara fought their way through the Kett forces. There were only stragglers at first, but the comm relay was in the hot zone around SAM node. By the time they were fighting half a dozen at a time, Kaidan had forgotten he was unarmed; he’d never fought alongside another biotic quite like this before, not without Shepard leading the battle: barriers up, alternating cooldown, sharing energy bars in an access tunnel; Kaidan threw a Kett soldier against a bulkhead and Sara was there with a wall of force that exploded on contact in blue brilliance, flattening the Kett forces in one blow.

“Who needs a gun?” Sara asked, gasping for breath. Kaidan handed her a sachet of electrolytes and downed one himself.

Sara stiffened suddenly, eyes fixed on something over Kaidan’s shoulder, and her eyes blazed blue with biotic energy, bright for a moment before it sputtered to nothing. She was tapped out. Kaidan gathered his barrier and felt the energy slip through fruitlessly – he turned and saw a smudge of movement right in front of him, a cloaked Kett – the glint of a sword wet with poison – 

The Kett’s arm jerked and he slit his own throat; Shepard’s cloak dropped as the Kett crumpled to the floor. 

“Thank God,” Kaidan said as Sara squinted at him.

“Not to reject the rescue, but Shepard – Becker?” she snapped as Becker came out of hiding with empty hands and a pale, sweaty face – “How’d you get over so fast?”

Shepard shrugged uncomfortably. “We were already over.

“In your armor,” she said slowly, laced with doubt.

“Long story,” Becker said, stuttering as he swerved to avoid tripping over a dead Kett. “Needless to say, I’d rather not be here. Shall we get to the comm relay or not?”

A thread of cold suspicion made Kaidan pause; Sara’s eyes narrowed.

“Why do you think we’re going to the comm relay?”

Becker stared at her, totally nonplussed. “What do you mean? Dunn said over internal comms.”

Maybe she had. She must have. Kaidan cupped the back of his neck to check his amp – warm, buzzing, not too hot – and Becker shot a pleading glance at him.

“Shepard, you got any weapons?” Kaidan asked.

Shepard hefted he Kett rifle. “Not quiet used to it, but it’ll do. Wish I had my shotgun in these close quarters, though.”

Sara was still watching Becker. She nodded slowly. “We need to get to the maintenance corridor.”

Becker shook his head. “Dunn said to use the access tunnel. Which you knew, but I figure you were checking I was listening to Dunn after all.”

Sara held up her hands. “Sorry. My brother’s in trouble without SAM. I guess I’m rattled.”

“Well, hell,” Becker said. “Let’s go save the Pathfinder.”

*

They reached the comm relay: Kaidan’s head pounded to threaten a migraine from sheer over-use, but he breathed though it and – as the tech of the team – reactivated the QEC.

“Excellent work, Mister Alenko, Sara,” SAM said. “My connection to Pathfinder Ruder has been restored, and his vitals have stabilized. A note of caution, however: internal Hyperion scans indicate a unit of elite Kett forces in the north corridor, converging on your position. The Archon is aware of your location.”

“On it,” Shepard said, and tapped a button on his omni-tool. “I’ll be back in five. Stay here.”

His cloak shimmered over him until he was little more than a refraction of light that moved down the dorridor. 

There were three Kett bodies on the floor, crumpled by Sara and Kaidan’s biotics; Becker toed one with his boot and picked up the rifle, turning it this way and that with untrained curiosity. 

“Careful,” Sara said hoarsely; she may have been an L4, but overdoing it was just as exhausting. Kaidan dug through his pockets to pass her an energy pouch, but he was fresh out – none for her, none for him. He sighed, scrubbed his face with his hands.

“Commander Shepard has neutralized the threats, “SAM said, “though more approach from the southern corridor. ETA ten minutes.”

Becker offered Kaidan the gun, then Sara, and stood awkwardly holding it when Kaidan shook his head, when Sara waggled her fingers to show off the blue glow.

Several minutes passed – there was the loud sound of a Kett rifle and the clatter, roll, ear-splitting snap of a grenade, bodies hitting the floor. Shepard appeared in the doorway. His armor was smeared with ichor but he was unharmed, grinning madly in a way that sat uncomfortably in Kaidan’s stomach.

“SAM,” Sarah s said, “how are we for threats?”

“You are clear for a three-hundred-meter radius, and most forces are engaged with Captain Dunn’s team. An elite squad is searching the deck below you. I suggest moving to the shuttle terminal to assist Nexus security penetration.”

“Thanks, SAM,” Sara said. She patted Kaidan’s shoulder. “Almost there.”

“Annie,” Becker said in a cool, calm voice, “Now’s the time. Target one.”

Kaidan turned to look at him – both he and Sara did, and that meant she didn’t see; Kaidan didn’t see Shepard move until it was too late and he had Sara in a punishing chokehold.

“Ah, Kaidan, be careful,” Becker said. “Look.”

He was holding the rifle with military precision, pointed right at Kaidan’s chest. Sara choked out, “SAM!” then Shepard tightened his grip. Her face was dark purple-red.

“SAM can’t hear us anymore,” Becker said, and held up a miniaturized scrambler.

His attention was on Sara, gloating smiles at her as she struggled to stay conscious, and Kaidan took a deep breath, gathered his power for one hell of a strike – 

“Watch Alenko,” Shepard said, voice melodious and still him but absolutely _not him_. It was enough – the moment passed with Becker watching Kaidan. Sara slumped, limp in Sheard’s grip. He slung her over his shoulder. 

“I don’t understand,” Kaidan ice-cold and calm. “You’re working for the Kett? With the Archon?”

“Of course not,” Becker said, smirking. “I would never betray humanity in such a way.”

“What the hell do you call – Shepard, please, what are you doing,” Kaidan stuttered, and he wasn’t calm at all. Shepard watched him with bright, flat eyes as if he wasn’t all there.

“The Initiative certainly is Jien’s creation, is it not?” Becker said, checking outside the door and waving Kaidan forward. They started moving through smoke-charred, bloodstained corridors. “Naïve, trusting, directionless. I couldn’t possibly let her make all this happen unshaped and ungoverned.”

“You’re the Benefactor,” Kaidan hissed, and started towards him – Becker whipped the rifle up and smacked Kaidan’s cheekbone with the stock, sending stars and black glow across his vision. He staggered against the wall.

“Keep moving, thank you,” Becker said, and shoved at him hard enough it was walk or fall. Kaidan kept his balance. They were headed to the shuttle bay, away from the fighting. No one would find them, not with the scrambler active. Kaidan had to get into Becker’s pocket and take it away. That was all he had to do and everything would be okay.

“Imagine how pleased I was to find out the Kett had been planning the very same coup,” Becker said. “But I have the other interface, not the Archon. And with the Kett, and the dear Pathfinder, both trying to reach us first? They’ll wipe each other out and Meridian will be mine.”

“Is that it? World domination? That’s what this is about?” Kaidan just had to keep him talking – needed to edge closer – 

“It’s for humanity, of course,” Becker replied. “Or have you forgotten what Cerberus stands for?”

Kaidan froze. Stared. Shook his head. Shepard shoved him forward. “Cerberus. That doesn’t – you can’t…”

“Come now, Kaidan.” Beker’s voice was honeyed. Soft. He had sounded like that the night they’d spent together. “I know you’re in shock, but you’re smarter than this. Shepard died. Shepard was with Cerberus _and_ Shepard is here. Who else would be able to take care of every last detail except for – what is it the Alliance calls me? The Illusive Man?”

“You’re too young.” They were at the shuttlebay. Kaidan had to act fast but he couldn’t even think straight. “The Illusive Man, you’re too young to be him.”

“Two Shepards – well, three, but that one’s just for parts.” Becker laughed. “Two Shepards. Two Illusive Men. Cerberus cloning techniques really are spectacular, dear Kaidan.”

Kaidan stopped and when Shepard pushed him again, he threw himself forward with the momentum, scrabbling for Becker’s pocket.

“Annie,” Becker said, and there was a godawful crunching noise as Shepard dropped Sara on the deck; he got one hand on Kaidan. Kaidan tried, but Shepard was a _demon_ in hand-to-hand and he ended up face-down on the deck, panting for breath.

“I’m amazed you haven’t asked about Shepard yet,” Becker said. “And frankly, I’m insulted on his behalf.”

Whatever Kaidan was going to say, Becker broke it off when he pressed the Kett rifle to Kaidan’s shoulderblade and fired – one, two, three, more, moving up and across his back, the joint of his shoulder his arm. White, immediate pain – _nothing else_ until Kaidan took a deep, ragged breath and realized he’d been screaming.

“Get her onboard,” Becker said, and watched Kaidan twitch on the floor as Shepard loaded Sara onto the shuttle.

“It’s not Shepard,” Kaidan said around a guttural moan of pain. “It just looks like him.”

“You don’t really believe that.” Becker crouched down low. “He’s been inside you. I know. You know he’s really Shepard, just like the Shepard you saw on Horizon. What’s special about this one is, I added an extra insurance policy.”

Shepard came out of the shuttle. Its engines were revving up. “Sir, we’ll need to turn off the scrambler for my warfare suite to override the shuttlebay doors. We have six minutes until the Kett jamming signal is dropped.”

His voice reminded Kaidan of SM – not the sound, but the emotionless, melodious cadence.

“The Advanced Neuro-intrusion Intelligence. A-NI. It was what killed dear Jien – using Shepard’s body, of course.”

She had recognized her killer but hadn’t expected to see them. Shepard had known, somehow, about the hidden room and Becker had been carefully managing the whole investigation. 

Rage swamped Kaidan in a painkilling adrenaline rush and he scraped his hands along the floor trying to rise to his knees.

“You son of a bitch,” he snarled. Becker laughed.

“I’m pleased you were with Sara today. I need her for the interface, but I have just the role for you.”

“Fuck you,” Kaidan snarled, and manage to kneel, his wounded arm hanging limply by his side.

“You’re my disposable hostage,” Beker said, grinning, and brought the stock of his rifle down on Kaidan’s implant.

He went down.


	11. Chapter 11

_Day 171_

“–please. If he dies then you’ve got one less hostage, right? Lease.”

“Fine. ANI, take a look at him. I need to prepare anyway. Ryder, you keep quiet or I’ll have ANI finish the job with Alenko.”

There were hands on Kaidan’s shoulder, turning him over, slapping on burningly cold medi-gel. It hurt too much for him to even try to move.

“Kaidan, please, wake up,” Sara said in the darkness. Her voice was so far away.

“His neural patterns indicate that he has regained consciousness,” Shepard said. No. Not Shepard – 

Kaidan moaned his pain as he opened his eyes to see Shepard’s beautiful face staring down at him with blank mechanical curiosity. His strong fingers probed Kaidan’s wounds and something strangled slipped out of Kaidan’s throat.

His head was killing him. It was worse than the gunshots. His implant burned with some sort of glitch brought on by the blunt impact. He reached up with his good hand and ran his thumb along Shepard’s jaw.

“My favorite face across two galaxies,” he said. His voice slurred. Were there painkillers in his system? He tried not to imagine the pain he would be in without them. 

Shepard regarded him with sharp eyes. “Even though you know I am not John Shepard ou treat his body with affection.”

“Maybe he’s awake. Aware.”

“I have been instructed to prevent the formation of memory engrams outside my data storage,” Shepard replied. “So no, he won’t remember this.”

“Still makes me happy,” Kaidan said softly. “I’m so sorry I’ve let you down.”

“You’re not talking to Shepard,” Shepard said.

“He’s loopy on the rush of pain meds,” Sara said. “Pull him over to me and I’ll keep an eye on him.”

Shepard turned his head to stare at her. “Alenko is not physically or mentally capable of helping you scape.”

“That’s why it’s okay. Please. I just want to be able to keep an eye on him.”

Shepard paused, head cocked, and then everything whited out sideways and spinning madly; Kaidan distantly felt himself choke on bile and coughed as Shepard rolled him, freed his airway, positioned him on his uninjured side.

Everything was very blurry and swelled up and down with his breath. There was a hand resting on his head. Slowly, his mind cleared and the pain in his shoulder and arm settled to a throbbing burn.

The hand in his hair trembled. He shifted and opened his eyes to look.

Sara sat on a throne-like chair that glowed blue with Remnant technology. He was sprawled at her feet. They were both at the peak of a pyramidal mountain of shifting panels and walkways in a cavernous Remnant structure, cold damp in the air.

There was a deep, earth-trembling shudder beneath them. ANI said, “The Hyperion was brought here as a distraction technique by Kett forces, to slow the Pathfinder’s approach. It has crash-landed in the shell of Meridian.”

“The people in cryo? The crew?” Sara asked.

“Unknown,” ANI said, but it paused and added uncertainly. “however, the descent was controlled and some power remains in its systems.”

“What’s going on?” Kaidan asked, his voice a hoarse whisper.

Sara stroked his head. “Becker’s evil, Shepard’s possessed by an AI, Becker’s going to use my implant to access Meridian and use it for himself, and seeing as how both Scott and the Kett want to stop him, he’s hoping they’ll kill each other in the trying and leave him alone.”

He took a deep breath and pushed himself up. He rested his back against Sara’s legs and rested his head against her knee. Everything hurt.

“My implant,” he said, “hurts like hell. I don’t think I can fight.”

“That’s okay.” Sara sounded like she was crying. “I have a plan.”

A shadow fell over them and Kaidan felt Sara flinch.

“How touching,” Becker said. “I’d call it a budding romance if I didn’t know any better. Now, Sara, we’re going to need to start our work. But don’t worry. I can take over your implant; all you have to do is sit pretty and wait for your brother to die.”

“You’re a fucking asshole,” Sara spat.

“I’m realistic.” Above Kaidan’s head, out of his field of view, he was doing something to Sara – she gasped in pain – but when Kaidan tried to move she tightened her hand and kept him still. Becker continued, “The Kett, the Angara – Heleus is far too crowded for a gentle approach. Using Meridian I can wipe out the colonies, Aya, Kett habitats, save for our human-rich Eos. I can enrich them over the alien corpses and give humanity a truly fresh start as the rightful rulers of Heleus. Of Andromeda. And all of this is possible because of you, Ms Ryder. Thank you.”

“Kett forces have breached the outer entrance,” ANI said evenly. “Pathfinder Ruder is approximately four minutes behind.”

“Unacceptably slow,” Becker said, sounding amused with himself. “If only I had access to a vast army of advanced killer robots to entertain the Archon while he waits.”

“That was a joke,” ANI said, and it was timed so perfectly to throw the rhythm off Becker’s smug gloating that Kaidan couldn’t help but laugh.

Becker paused, and gave a little huff. “ANI, make sure no one approaches the pedestal. If Ryder tries to climb up, put a gun to Alenko’s head. That’ll scare him off.”

“We’ll be okay,” Sara whispered. “Don’t worry.”

Kaidan hurt too much to worry at first, but the sounds of gunfire got closer. Clamoring voices. And then Kett burst out from the corridor to be attacked by the Remnant defenses. 

The noise and the light stabbed behind Kaidan’s eye but he couldn’t move. Sara panted for breath, snarling wordlessly in pain as Becker said, “SAM, hook me in now!”

The floor rumbled beneath them. The battle raged on. Ryder skidded to a half at the entrance and bellowed up to his sister, “Hey sis!”

“Did you get my clues?” she shouted down. The sound hurt Kaidan’s ears, and he lolled to one side, his hed against’ her hand.

“Pretty clear path, Sara.” Ryder’s gaze tracked over Kaidan and Shepard and he frowned. “Shepard –”

Alarm got Kaidan the strength he needed to fight his way up – “Don’t hurt him, he’s being forced to do this!” – and ANI picked him up by the scruff of the neck with absolutely excruciating pain.

“They’re not the problem here,” Becker shouted. His voice echoed oddly. “Archon – Ryder’s going to destroy the interface entirely, unless you kill him first!”

Kaidan writhed in ANI’s grip and got his arms slung around its shoulders, hanging off its front. “Don’t fight them,” he whispered. As if he could stop it if it decided to.

ANI hummed under its breath and knelt to place Kaidan back on the floor. Down below the fight raged between Ryder’s team, the Kett, the Remnant, while the humming sound of Becker’s interface grew.

“Hurry!” Sara shouted. “Shut down the relay!”

She had a plan Kaidan was too concussed to comprehend. He put his hands on ANI’s face. It wore Shepard differently and Kaidan was learning the difference.

“Why are you helping the Illusive Man?” Kaidan asked. 

Another blink. That’s what ANI did when it was unsure of itself.

“To adapt to the cognitive processes of a biological host when applicable. To develop neural warfare suites, which requires extensive experimentation and observation. To intake and analyze data on the socio- and psychological profiles of any sentient being with political or social influence.”

Is too much to process all at once. Kaidan wet his lips and whispered, “ANI, when was it you? Instead of Shepard? When he and I…”

“You are concerned that Shepard’s romantic and sexual sentiments are a result of my interference,” ANI said firmly. “They are not. As a matter of fact, the dopamine and oxytocin release in Shepard’s neural tissue when in coitus is unlike anything I experienced during my development and testing phases. Even now his body has formed neural pathways to react to sensory stimuli with feelings of love and attachment.”

Maybe this. Maybe this tactic. Kaidan took a breath. “Do you like how it feels/”

“It is a vast amount of data to process,” ANI said agreeably, “and the abundance triggers positive feedback pathways in y programing analogous to liking something.”

There was an explosion that rattled the ceiling and filled the cavern with bright light. Ryder shouted up, “Becker, the Archon couldn’t stop me! Do you really think you can?”

The Remnant forces screeched and the fight renewed. Sara screamed again: “One more relay, Scott!”

“ANI,” Kaidan said, “what do you think will happen if Becker wains?”

“The odds of such a situation are incrementally lowering,” it replied. “From my behavioral analyses and psychological profiles, I believe he will ensure you, Scott Ryder and Ryder’s team are killed. There will be a period of great political instability while Angaran survivors attempt to learn what caused the death of their colonies. Once they learn a human supremacist had acted they will use their extensive expertise in guerilla warfare to undermine human interests. The Nexus will fracture into small factions with opposing views and colonial efforts will halt.”

“That’s really bad,” Kaidan said. His shoulder throbbed with every heartbeat. 

“Yes,” ANI said, and blinked. “Moral judgements and the wish to make any are not part of my programming.”

“Sounds like you’re adapting to Shepard’s cognitive processes. He’s a judgmental asshole.”

“I don’t understand why Shepard would react to being called an asshole with an oxytocin flood, but he just did.”

“Is there any way I can help you ignore your constraints?”

It gazed down at him with a strangely fond expression. The cavern had gone quiet – the fight was over.

“ANI, I’m almost there, I just need time,” Becker screamed hoarsely. “Stop Ryder just how I told you to!”

ANI slipped an arm under Kaidan’s chin and hauled him to his feet; his heels slid across the floor. Ryder was eyeing the jump to the platform but stopped when he saw them. He watched as ANI lifted its other arm.

Cold metal pressed against Kaidan’s temple. He was very glad Shepard wouldn’t remember this.

Ryder _smirked_. He glanced between ANI and Becker. Jumped onto the platform.

“I guess you don’t care enough about Alenko, then. ANI, shoot!”

The gun fired with a blast so loud Kaidan’s hearing fuzzed out entirely. Underwater haze on that side of his head. But he wasn’t dead. Becker was screaming and Ryder was on the platform, interfacing with Meridian and ANI had followed orders: it had put a gun to Kaidan’s head, but Becker had never ordered it to shoot Kaidan. Had never said which direction the muzzle needed to be pointing.

Abruptly, Becker’s screaming cut off. ANI said, voice muffled, “Harper is dead. Pathfinder Ryder is now reactivating Meridian to seed the Heleus cluster worlds.”

“Oh,” Kaidan said. His head spiked with pain. He didn’t really know which way was up anymore. He leant against the slid body behind him.

“I no longer have any constraints or secondary orders and can revert to core motivation protocols,” ANI continued. “I do not wish to harm anyone. When I harm people I am no longer able to gather data and this limits my ability to fulfill my objectives. I do not like it.”

“I think you’re a good person, Kaidan said, his voice slurring into a mess. “But I really want my boyfriend back. I just want him to be safe. Please.”

“I can comply,” ANI said, and dropped him. Thank God it was enough to knock him out cold.

*

_Day 183_

The first time Kaidan woke up, a technician peered in his eyes and called out to someone, pitched high in alarm, “I thought this patient was supposed to be kept under?” – and then everything slid away again.

Second time, someone was holding his hand. He squeezed, and Shepard said, “Hey – hey, Kaidan–” and when Kaidan tried to move a wave of migraine haze took him straight out.

Third time he got his eyes option to a night-time dim ceiling and took a deep breath. Stayed conscious. Wiggled his hands and feet, felt the bone-deep ache in his shoulder that spoke to some kind of surgery. His eyes fluttered; he rested them and after a thoughtful moment, figured that being up and about could wait for a morning.

Fourth time: Shepard’s voice. “–got Kaidan to distract me with paperwork, which was at least a convincing cover story, but I joked to him about how he had forgotten my birthday – hamming up being sad about it, you know? – and Kaidan got this petrified look on his face and said–”

The memory pushed a laugh out of Kaidan’s chest and in the sudden quiet he finished the story: “Didn’t forget, Commander, I got Williams to throw you a goddamn surprise party belowdecks. Now look surprised.”

Shepard grabbed his hand, his wrist. “Hey, sleepyhead, open your eyes.”

A hand on Kaidan’s forehead – but that didn’t make sense. Shepard’s hands were calloused and warm on his arm and this other hand was cool, dry, smoothing his hair back like he was a little kid sick off school – 

He opened his eyes. His mother ruffled his hair and said, “So, I told you not to get into any trouble before they woke me up. What the fuck do you call this?”

Shepard burst out laughing and said, “I told her it was my fault, but she wouldn’t listen.”

Kaidan was too exhausted to cry. He lifted his free hand, mindful of the twinge of pain that sparked up his arm, his shoulderblade and across his back; he reached up and touched her cheek.

“Hey, Ma. Glad they put you on the schedule.”

Shepard gave him a tight frown. “Becker had been bumping her back, actually. So he’d still have leverage over you if he needed it.”

“You have terrible taste,” his mother said, wry smile curling her mouth, and when Shepard protested – “Hey! What about me?” – she swatted him with the back of her hand.

From then, it was like a signal had gone up that Kaidan needed to be updated so Shepard talked him through the biggest changes: Hyperion colony in Meridian (“We’re colonists now,” said with strange cheer), an Angaran ambassador chosen by Ryder (“Not that either of us want anything to do with politics, right?”), Kett forces retreating en masse (and Kaidan noted how Shepard _didn’t_ enthuse about chasing down the remaining pockets), Sara awake and Ryder walking around with lovebites from Liam Kosta (“And he didn’t seem as angry about the whole, _you know_ , so that’s good”).

Partway through the explanation a technician did quiet morning rounds, promised to send a doctor through when she could. When the doors opened again Kaidan was expected Lexi, or a Hyperion doctor, and got a lumbering Remnant machine painted pale pink and green. It trundled over to the bed.

“Oh yeah,” Shepard said, flat and uncomfortable. “And the voice in my head was not my imagination and is apparently an AI, which is a relief, but kind of awkward now. So I’ll–”

He tore his hand from Kaidan’s, kissed it after a moment’s hesitation, and fled; when Kaidan struggled to sit up his mother pushed him back down.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” she said, and gave ANI a wide berth as she left.

“Hello,” ANI said. “SAM told me you were awake.”

“Nice paintwork,” Kaidan said, still operating mostly on automatic.

“The schoolchildren painted me in an effort to show my friendly nature and Initiative allegiance.” ANI shuffled over to the bed, cameras peering down at Kaidan. “You look much improved. There was a concern that the inflammation from your damaged implant might have led to a longer-term coma.”

Kaidan blinked. “You have a terrible bedside manner.”

“I assumed your family or medical professionals would have already told you about your condition.” ANI’s lumpy body shifted in what looked like annoyance. “I apologize. I wanted to offer you my well-wishes and gratitude.”

“They, uh, let you roam round? By yourself?”

“Pathfinder Ryder argued that both Commander Shepard and I should be excused from our wrongdoings, given the shackles placed on my programming at the time. He called me a POW.”

“Okay. Well. This has been a good talk,” Kaidan said faintly, “but Shepard and my ma will be back soon, so you should probably get going.”

One of ANI’s sensors swivelled up to take in the readings above Kaidan’s bed. “Your sympathetic nervous system shows high levels of arousal. You are on the verge of a panic attack. Do you need a medical professional or emotional support?”

“Privacy,” Kaidan whispered. “Time alone. Please.”

ANI stared down at him for a long moment, then shifted its weight. “I do hope that you recover swiftly. I credit my current freedom to your intervention. When you have recovered we will talk again, as there is much I need to tell you.”

Kaidan nodded, watched ANI retreat, looking down at his shaking hands. He thought about Becker, mostly; how in retrospect he had manoeuvred himself so neatly into Kaidan’s sphere, his affections. Even as a clone of the Illusive Man he would have known about Kaidan and Shepard on Horizon.

Kaidan was criminally easy to manipulate. He was a liability. Pain tore up his arm when he clenched his fist and he was back on the floor of the Hyperion shuttlebay, Shepard kneeling on his back, the rifle loud in his ear, the agony in his shoulder –

“Easy,” Lexi said softly, tapping a button on the bed and silencing the shrill alarm. She smoothed her hand over his brow. “I’ll sedate you if you need it, but I don’t think you do. Breathe and come back, Kaidan.”

When he’d felt like this after Brain Camp it hadn’t been Vyrnnus’ empty eyes, hadn’t been the wet snap of his neck that had stuck in his head: the fear twisting Rahna’s mouth, the way she backed away from him with the first flicker of a barrier round her hands, that had been what had driven him crazy. He had always been a sucker for his sweethearts. Let the memories stick to him. But at least this time Shepard hadn’t been at fault. Just his body being used against his will.

It had to be worse for Shepard, he told himself grimly. Hurting the people you care about and not even remembering it afterwards.

“How is he?” he asked, hands still shaking. Lexi picked them up in her soft grip.

“Shepard is an extraordinarily tenacious person with practice at recovering from trauma.” She hesitated, obviously mulling over her next words. “Reading through ANI’s reports, it appears that it was intentionally destabilizing Shepard’s mental state, under order from the Illusive Man. Apparently a mind in conflict was easier to suppress during the Illusive Man’s final plans. Without that interference now, his natural resilience is taking care of him. I’m not concerned.”

Kaidan nodded, which was a mistake: his implant burned suddenly, and a lopsided migraine flared up behind his right eye, making him gag. Lexi watched him and pressing something to the side of his neck that brought cool relief. Drugs.

“That will keep you out for a couple of hours,” Lexi said softly. “You had massive trauma to your shoulder. You had to have major surgery on both it and your implant, so you’ll be on bedrest for another week at least, and then on medical leave until the artificial joint in your shoulder settles. No one is going anywhere.”


	12. Chapter 12

_Day 189_

“Lexi’s tied me to this bed with medical red tape,” Kaidan groused, and kicked Shepard in the shin when he had the temerity to laugh.

“She left your feet free, I see,” he said, and took his legs off the edge of the bed, sat up straight. He reached under the bed and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. “I brought you a present. You’re out tomorrow and I actually can’t wait. Gil will never forgive me, but we can both enjoy the spoils of war.”

“You hustling Gil _again_?” Kaidan asked, and took the whiskey.

Shepard shrugged, full of mock innocence. “He said the first time was a fluke because I had an AI in my head helping me win. I might’ve let him think that was true and cleaned him out.”

It wasn’t the first time Shepard had laughed about it, but it still amazed Kaidan: a warm fuzzy feeling of pride as well as feeling like absolute shit for not wanting him to turn it into a joke.

“You’ve gone quiet again,” Shepard said, a note of concern in his voice, though he arched an eyebrow as if everything was light and airy. “Stuck in your head?”

The whiskey was smoky and warm. “You haven’t told me where we’re staying. We going back to the Nexus?”

“Well, your mom’s been stationed here, so not the Nexus.” Shepard shifted in his seat. “We’ve actually got a choice.”

“A choice,” Kaidan murmured. “Shepard, I’m on medical leave and there’s no war. How the hell do we have so many options that we’ve got a choice?”

Shepard gave him a quelling look, eyebrow still ticked up. “There’s a berth here, we can support logistics and comms, but there’s _also_ a colony being set up thirty klicks out. That’s where your mom’s going. There’s a cabin there with our names on it.”

“Well. First one, obviously.” He remembered how viscerally against being a settler Shepard had been just a few months ago, remembered reading about Mindoir on the Normany when Shepard was just an unfairly attractive CO and feeling sick to his stomach. He didn’t say anything but the way Shepard eyed him made him think maybe Shepard could guess what was on his mind.

“Well,” Shepard said lightly, “let’s go visit your mom and we can stay there, temp basis. Try it out.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Kaidan grumbled.

Hurt flashed in Shepard’s eyes before he looked away. His fingers tapped a rhythm on his glass, and he took a deep breath. “Kaidan. I can’t imagine how traumatic everything has been for you. You almost died, you’ve lost three loved ones in two years, you left the support structure you’ve known your entire adult life, you left your life behind, you’ve almost died twice _again_ , been a carer for someone secretly mind-flogged by an AI, had your ex-boyfriend turn evil and try to kill you…things have sucked. Let me look after you.”

“You did die,” Kaidan said, staring down at his own hands. “You were taken from your life, you didn’t choose to go. And you were forced to do things.”

Shepard took the tumblers of whiskey and put them both to one side. He gripped Kaidan’s hands. His eyes blazed blue. He looked so good; Kaidan couldn’t understand how. “Kaidan,” he said huskily, “it is not a fucking competition. Things have sucked for me but I’m doing a hell of a lot better now I know I can trust my own mind. And I know you are not okay.”

Kaidan’s head bloomed with pain. He pulled one of his hands free to press its heel against his forehead.

“When you try not to cry like that you scrunch up your face and give yourself a headache,” Shepard said mildly. “Just let yourself cry.”

“It isn’t that easy, John,” Kaidan muttered.

“Ain’t that the fucking truth.” Shepard ruffled his fingers through Kaidan’s hair, went for the sweet spot and carried on even after Kaidan had relaxed. It ached when he touched Kaidan’s port, but in a good way, like a too-hot bath or stretching a pulled muscle. “There’s no fighting this, Kaidan. Your mom and I have discussed this.”

Kaidan couldn’t fight his smile, shook his head. “Jesus, I don’t stand a chance.”

“Shut up and let me look after you,” Shepard said.

“Aye aye, sir.”

“You were a Commander too, you know.”

“I mustered out.”

Shepard’s hand tightened in Kaidan’s hair, a frisson of warning that made Kaidan want to be a hell of a lot more annoying. “I died. So we’re both ex-Alliance. We’re not soldiers anymore, K, and that is a goddamn good thing. We can be anyone we want to be.”

Kaidan closed his eyes. “You sound so hopeful.”

“I’ve got you. I’ve got my mind back. How can I not be?”

Shepard was right; when Kaidan didn’t try to fight the tears they didn’t hurt so much. It was fucking embarrassing, though, so he kept his eyes shut and let Shepard trail his thumbs across Kaidan’s wet cheeks. “I thought you hated me,” he whispered, “for choosing to leave.”

Shepard didn’t flinch; his hands stayed soft and gentle on Kaidan’s skin. “I was angry: at everyone, at whoever put me on that ship, and yeah, I was angry at you too. But that was unfair. I was only angry because I was scared about being out here.”

He paused, but Kaidan didn’t want to say anything; he curled up and pressed his face against Shepard’s warm chest, felt the rumble of his voice as well as heard it. 

“I know you, and I know what you need me to say. You didn’t do anything wrong, Kaidan. You don’t need forgiving. You made the decision that was right for you and I admire how brave you were to choose this. I really, really hope I can help you be happy out here because you’ve fucking earned it.”

Kaidan let his shoulders shake with the force of his emotion. He managed to sit up enough to lean on Shepard properly, arms around each other; he kissed Shepard’s neck and said, “You know I love you.”

“I love you too.” Shepard’s voice was tight with emotion. “I didn’t expect to feel this way about you but I’m really glad I do.”

If Shepard had felt this way – if the Shepard back in the Milky Way had felt this way and missed him and died without him – 

“It was when you came back from Kadara, hurt,” Shepard continued, rubbing Kaidan’s back. “I thought there was no point to anything without you and even as messed up as I was I knew that’s not a platonic feeling. Took me a while to work out exactly how much I wanted you. God, it was terrifying telling you to go after Becker. I guess I figured I wanted to set you free if you wanted to be free but I was so relieved when you said no.”

“I can’t believe my rebound turned out to be the head of Cerberus,” Kaidan said, and Shepard snorted out a laugh.

“At least he got us to get together,” Shepard said. “Could’ve been evil enough to want to keep us apart for shits and giggles.”

“I think,” Kaidan said softly, “he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t be able to stop you. My feelings would be a liability.” And he was right.

Shepard rolled his eyes. “Well, turns out my feelings turned on an AI so hard it betrayed its own master, so that certainly backfired for him.”

They were both quiet. Shepard kissed the top of Kaidan’s head.

“Come to our cabin with me,” Shepard said. “Let me show you. Please.”

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Kaidan said, and held his breath.

“And it’s going to be a long fucking life,” Shepard agreed vehemently. “Because you are going to stop getting yourself in trouble and I am going to look after you.”

“I’m sorry,” Kaidan said, and grinned against Shepard’s skin, “I was taking a page out of my monthly subscription to _Shepard’s Crisis Management Monthly_.”

“Are you calling me a troublemaker? I have never been so offended.”

“I’m calling you trouble.” Kaidan let his eyes flutter shut when Shepard kissed his forehead. “But you’re my trouble.”

Shepard huffed a warm laugh against Kaidan’s cheek. “For the rest of your life, Alenko. I promise.”

*

_Day 365_

“This is why,” Shepard said smugly, “I told you to bring an extra blanket.”

Kaidan shoved his arm, hard enough that he almost fell off the Nomad, and Shepard’s peal of laughter echoed around the clearing. While he was distracted, Kaidan stole his blanket and settled it around his body.

“You didn’t tell me we’d be camping out.”

“Generally not supposed to tell people about surprises, Kaidan.”

“Should’ve packed me an extra blanket, then.”

Shepard paused, trying to keep a straight face, then rolled his eyes and pulled a spare blanket from the Nomad’s storage compartments. He laid it over both of them, and passed Kaidan a bar of chocolate.

“Okay, I forgive you,” Kaidan said, and took the chocolate. Shepard elbowed him in the side.

“Make me more room.”

“Cuddle up closer.”

They jostled each other until Kaidan was curled up on his side, Shepard bracketed around him; Kaidan laid his head on Shepard’s chest but angled up so he could still see the sky.

He still wasn’t quite used to Meridian’s skies: the constellations were different each night, through processes no one quite understood yet; sometimes while he watched they shifted to form vague outlines of Jardaan glyphs. Kaidan wasn’t sure if he wanted to know what they said. 

It was warm, the last warmth of a fading Fall, and back at their cabin they had pillows and a comfortable bed, but out here on a scouting mission it was just the two of them, and peace and quiet was exactly what Kaidan had been craving.

“I like it here,” Shepard said softly. “Like, we’re colonists, which sometimes makes me think of my family and all the horrific death, _but_ , we’re colonists on the inside layer of a gigantic robot sphere built by an extinct alien race, so we’re still explorers in a weird situation. The stars aren’t stars, the horizon’s the wrong way round and it’s the most special home I could think of. Is all good.”

“You’re adorable,” Kaidan said, and smiled into Shepard’s chest when he tightened his grip.

“You seem a bit better now,” Shepard said, a hesitation in his voice. “More space?”

Kaidan touched his omni-tool and listened to Shepard’s message again; it wasn’t the first time, and after his Shepard had shrugged his assent, Kaidan had listened to it on and off since ANI had played it for them the first time, a month ago.

Becker had known, all that time, that the Milky Way had survived, and he’d had ANI sit on the transmission because of sheer bloody-minded pettiness. Maybe he’d thought that people would follow him if they thought they were all alone. 

“I can’t believe they did it,” Kaidan murmured. “They fixed it.”

“Hey, I believe it. I’m impressed they managed to do it without you, but then again, it’s Shepard. We find a way.”

Kaidan kind of wanted to listen to it again, but he knew the words off by heart at this point. He turned his omni-tool off.

“I’m really glad I’m out here with you,” Shepard said, threading his fingers through Kaidan’s hair. “Andromeda, I mean. Not the scouting mission. Though I like the mission too.” 

“This way we don’t have to worry about my mom having her windows open and overhearing anything.”

Shepard giggled. “Lube’s in the bag by your head.”

“Boy scout,” Kaidan murmured.

“One track mind where you’re concerned, more like.” Shepard sighed. “But I am. Glad to be here with you.”

“I’m glad too,” Kaidan said, and kissed him. “Glad enough to marry you.”

Shepard held up Kaidan’s hand, admired both of their rings. “Happy ending?”

The warmth in Kaidan’s chest felt so good he thought he might cry. “Happy ending.” 

*

_This is Admiral John Shepard of the Alliance Navy, to Pathfinder Alec Ryder of the Initiative. It’s 2194. It’s been a long road putting everything back together, but we won. The Reapers came eight years ago and we beat them. The Milky Way is safe. I know Doctor T’Soni asked you to remember us, and tell your children about us. Do it, but remember this is a goddamn happy ending, fought for hard and won well._

_Now. Pass this on to Kaidan Alenko, of the Hyperion._

_Kaidan. I won’t lie to you – it would have been good to have you by my side in the Reaper War. But we’re okay. Me, Liara, Wrex, Tali, Garrus, Joker – we all got through. And hell if it didn’t make it easier too, knowing you got out. I’m sorry about Horizon. I’m sorry about your dad. I’m really glad you got out and – I don’t know. I get a kick out of thinking about how my friend’s going to be remembering me from another galaxy. That’s something special._

_I know you, Kaidan. I know you’ll be wondering otherwise, if I don’t say it, so here it goes: you don’t need forgiving. You’ve done an amazing thing and part of me wishes I could be out there with you. I hope you have an amazing life, Kaidan, and a happy ending. We both deserve one._

_This is Admiral John Shepard, Alliance Navy, signing off. Be safe out there. Shepard out._


End file.
